Slytherin, Snape and Dudley
by helen101
Summary: Due to Harry performing accidental magic, Dudley becomes a wizard and attends Hogwarts in Harry's second year. How does Harry cope? Snape mentors Harry fic. No slash. CP in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: As a disclaimer for the whole story. I do not own of any of these character. JKR does. I'm just playing in her universe!_

Chapter 1 - Back At Privet Drive

The door behind Harry closed with a click. "Welcome home!" Harry thought to himself as he returned to number four Privet Drive at the end of his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Get in here, you lazy good for nothing freak!" yelled Vernon. Harry stepped into the living room, resigned to two and half months of misery at the hands of his relatives. "Leave your things in the hallway, and go outside and tidy the garden. The grass needs cutting, the shrubs needs pruning and the flowers need watering. Do it before dinner or you're not getting fed."

Harry sighed and went outside. Just for once he wanted a normal life, with normal relatives and people who cared. The trouble was, that now he knew there was something better. He knew his parents hadn't died in a car crash, he knew he was a wizard, he knew that people cared for him. Hagrid had given him a birthday cake last year - a real cake. For him! He'd got Christmas presents from Ron and Hermione. He'd been given a broom from Professor McGonagall and allowed to play on the house team. But more than those material things, he'd learnt that people cared for him. Whereas now, he was stuck in Privet Drive with people who wished he didn't exist, and who took pleasure in making his life miserable. It was going to be a long summer.

He finished the gardening as he heard Aunt Petunia putting the dinner out on plates. He hurried inside so that he could get some food - if he wasn't there, he knew Dudley would eat his, and that his aunt and uncle would let him. Uncle Vernon glowered at him as he sat down. "I hope that's done to my satisfaction, boy, else you'll be locked in your room without food for the remainder of the week!"

Harry bit back a retort, and meekly replied, "Yes, Uncle Vernon." It would be no good to rile the man this early in the holidays. He could, and would, at little provocation, make Harry's life more miserable than it currently was.

"And don't expect to get any of your things back until the day you go back. I'll have none of that freakiness under my roof."

Harry had summer homework to do. He couldn't get behind. He wasn't going to get detentions the first week back just because his uncle refused to let him have his things. He made what turned out to be a big mistake. He argued back. "That's not fair!", he spluttered, "I need my things - I've got homework - essays to write, reading to do."

"Boy, do not answer me back. Go to your room. There will be no dinner for you." Harry didn't move. Dudley leaned over and took his plate. Harry tried to snatch it back, but got a slap on the wrist from Vernon. Unshed tears in his eyes, Harry stalked out of the room, went to his room and slammed the door. He threw himself down on the bed and cried. It really was so unfair. He hated it here, and he was stuck here until September.

He stayed in his room all evening. The light dimmed outside, and he eventually fell asleep, emotionally exhausted.

When he woke up next day, the first thing he recalled on opening his eyes, reaching for his glasses and looking at the ceiling, was that he was at Privet Drive. The events of yesterday afternoon marched through his mind. They set the scene for the remainder of the holiday. With a sigh, he made the mental adjustment that had seen him through his childhood: Stay quiet. Keep out of the way. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. Don't expect anything nice to happen. With that mantra said, Harry got up and faced the world.

Two days later was Dudley's birthday. Harry was pleased. They were taking Dudley out to the cinema, bowling and dinner with his friend Piers Polkiss. It gave Harry a day of quiet. He'd been left a list of chores to do as long as his arm, but at least he could do them without constant bullying from Dudley, oversight from Aunt Petunia and derision from Uncle Vernon. There might even be enough time for him to watch some television. It didn't occur to him to ignore the list and have a lazy day. He wasn't suicidal - he really didn't want to know what Vernon would do if he didn't do the chores. Withholding his dinner would be the least of his worries.

Life continued this way for two weeks. Dudley took every opportunity to bully him. Dudley invited Piers round whenever he could so that they could torment him. Any time Harry retaliated when Petunia or Vernon weren't in sight Dudley would run inside and claim Harry was doing 'freaky stuff'. This would get him sent to his room without dinner, usually with a cuff upside the head on his way courtesy of Vernon. Harry learnt very quickly not to retaliate. But this meant putting up with the constant jibes, the shoving and punching. They continued the game they'd invented at primary school - Harry Hunting. Some days Harry was fast enough to hide in his room and pull the chest of drawers in front of the door before they could get in, or sometimes run away to the park and hide, but other days he wasn't so lucky and got bruises and scrapes for his trouble.

Petunia didn't do anything to help him. He had to do chores for her - the laundry, chopping vegetables, the washing up. He'd been graduated to cooking dinner by the end of the first week. He wasn't very good at it and if he burnt the dinner - something that happened more than once - he'd get chewed out by Uncle Vernon.

When Vernon wasn't at work or watching television he was berating Harry. Dudley took great delight in this. It was, to him, a show - a nightly occurrence, and at weekends there was usually a matinée performance as well.

Harry became increasingly angry and upset. Some days his unhappiness showed through more than others and he had difficulty getting out of bed until he'd hear from downstairs the dulcet tones of Uncle Vernon bellowing for him to get up. Other days he got so angry that he just had to get out of the house before he screamed and raged at all of them. Finally he reached breaking point.

The final straw came when he was making dinner one evening. All four of them were in the kitchen. Vernon and Dudley were sitting at the table waiting to be fed while Harry stood over the stove stirring a pot and Petunia hovered over Harry, correcting every little thing but never once helping him. Vernon had got home late from work and was tired. He'd been working late a lot recently - he had some important business deal in the pipeline and had a lot of paperwork to do. Vernon was talking to the room in general about working hard and made sure he got a dig at Harry at the same time.

"Dudders, I can show you all the ways to get to the top and be a success, unlike some," he said, glancing over at Harry meaningfully. "Better than having no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scroungers for parents. I mean, dying like that and leaving their son..."

Harry had stopped listening, or indeed doing anything. He was concentrating on not blowing a fuse, yet he could feel his magic rising with his anger. He tried to think calming thoughts - quidditch, Hogwarts, flying - but it wasn't working. Harry let out a scream of pent up rage and frustration, all his emotions unravelling in a single second. He thought he heard an explosion, but perhaps that was just in his head. He blacked out.

Harry came round to the sound of his name being called softly, "Harry... Harry...". He opened his eyes and focused. Swimming into view was Dumbledore. Harry was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, his back against the wall. He made to get up. "No, stay where you are for a few minutes." Dumbledore said. Harry looked around and took in the scene. The chairs in the kitchen were scattered across the floor. Uncle Vernon was unconscious (hopefully that was all it was) yet in a sitting position against the cupboards behind where he had been sitting. It looked like he'd fallen over the back of his chair. He had a raised bump on his head that was already going an interesting shade of purple. There was a heavy saucepan next to him that looked like it had fallen off the top of the cupboard and hit him on the head. The dinner he had been cooking was plastered up the walls and ceiling. The pot it had been in was nowhere to be seen.

Other sounds began to register. Petunia was wailing about 'her ickle Diddykins'. Harry searched out Dudley. He was also unconscious. He was on the floor in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, Petunia hovering over him, alternating between reaching out to him and putting her hands up to her face in shock. Then Harry caught sight of something he really didn't want to see. Professor Snape. Add to the summer that was fast resembling hell one potions master who hated Harry with a passion, and Harry wanted to pass out again. Snape appeared to be checking around the kitchen, then he went in to the living room and came back and shook his head at Dumbledore. Snape then did something with his wand Harry didn't catch, and again he shook his head, looking relieved.

"Harry, can you tell me what happened?" asked the headmaster kindly.

"Um." was all Harry managed. Snape came over and looked at Harry critically, then inhaled sharply and came even closer.

"Albus, his ears are bleeding." Harry put a hand up to his ear and felt something warm and sticky beginning to trickle out. The potions master pointed his wand at Harry and performed a diagnostic spell. A parchment appeared in front of him. He read it, then said to Albus, "He has perforated ear drums, but other than that he appears fine." His tone sounded to Harry almost relieved. Strange. "I will check on the boy." With that, Snape ran the same diagnostic on Dudley and found nothing wrong with him.

At that moment there was a great groan from Vernon and blearily he stood up.

"Vernon, Diddy is hurt. That freak did this!" said Petunia. Vernon was suddenly very awake. He looked over to his son, then Harry, then around at the rest of the room.

"Why, you little... " he aimed a kick in Harry's direction. Snape who had been watching and listening was very confused at the use of the word 'freak'. He could understand Vernon's confusion about events. He could understand he'd be more than a little annoyed about the state of his kitchen. He fully understood his concern for his son. But the way he looked at Harry, his words, his tone, and then how he attempted to kick Harry caused him concern. Snape grabbed Vernon's shoulder to off-balance him enough that the kick never landed.

Petunia sidetracked Vernon from Harry,"Vernon! Help Dudley!" Vernon turned away from Harry and went to Dudley, whose eyes were fluttering open. Petunia started wailing again about how her little angel was going to be alright. Dudley did indeed look alright to Harry. Having been around Dudley long enough Harry had long since learnt the signs of 'milking it', and Dudley was doing that for all he was worth. Groaning, putting his hand on his head, and then his stomach, his arms and his legs, anyone would think from the noise he was making he was at death's door. Snape rolled his eyes at the scene.

Dumbledore spoke to Harry again, "I need to know what happened, Harry. Arthur - Mr. Weasley - heard in the ministry that underage magic happened at this address. There was going to be a letter sent to you about improper use of magic. Arthur contacted me. Professor Snape was with me in my office at the time, and we both apparated here to find all of you unconscious and the room looking like a tornado had been through it. Was there anyone else in the house Harry?" Harry shook his head, looking guilty. Dumbledore looked around again, "This was your magic? Harry, what made this happen?"

"It was an accident. I tried to calm down, but I couldn't. I felt my emotions unravel and then there was a kind of explosion and then you were waking me up."

"What made you that upset?" asked Snape. Harry looked at his knees and shook his head. He wasn't going to explain that, and certainly not to the bat of the dungeons.

"Well," said Dumbledore, in his happy, everything will be fine voice, "it looks like we can put the kitchen back to normal and leave you to your evening." Petunia had helped Dudley to his feet by now and was helping him to the couch in the living room where he would be coddled all evening. Vernon looked like he might blow a gasket, getting redder by the second, his cheeks matching the colour of the lump on his head. He really wanted the wizards to leave. It wouldn't do for Privet Drive to have any of 'their sort' here.

Dumbledore, with a wave of his wand, straightened the room, set the table and food appeared in the four places. "Come along, Severus." he said.

Professor Snape was suspicious. He didn't know what of, but something clearly wasn't right here. He had a suspicion that Dumbledore knew what it was, but he would never say. He didn't like it when things weren't what they seemed. He'd been a spy too long to drop the matter. He needed to know. If Dumbledore wouldn't say, he would have to find out for himself.

"Mr. Potter, I will call in tomorrow to check how you are. I would like to be assured that there's no damage to either yourself or your magic." Harry's heart sank. Snape at the Dursleys'. That was going to be a day that would go down in history. As Dumbledore and Snape apparated away, he didn't realise exactly how accurate that thought would turn out to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Another Wizard

Next day Harry awoke tired and achy. The sort of tired and achy that makes you think you've been hit by a train. He got up and went downstairs to make breakfast for everyone and quickly eat his. He wanted to get back to his room as soon as possible. He didn't want to see the looks of recrimination on his relatives' faces. Or have to listen to a tirade off Uncle Vernon.

While back up in his room, he heard Dudley call out that he was going round to the Polkiss's. Apparently Piers had been bought a corn snake and Dudley wanted to see it. So long as they don't bring it back here, Harry thought. Given Aunt Petunia's opinion of snakes he was reasonably sure he wouldn't have to deal with Dudley, Piers _and_ a snake.

Dudley left his parents' house and headed down Magnolia Crescent. He was surprised the Piers had a snake, what with the incident with the freak last summer. Piers said on the phone when he told Dudley about his snake that his parents had got him it to try to get him to like snakes. Piers admitted that it was a very pretty snake, and he'd been assured it would always remain small and wouldn't bite him, and anyway, it wasn't venomous.

When Dudley got to the Polkiss's he was taken up to Piers' room to view the snake. It was pretty, Piers was right - bright shades of red and orange and a tiny little tongue that flicked in and out of its mouth. Dudley could tell Piers wasn't entirely keen on the whole concept of having the snake in his room, but managed to not make a derogatory remark about it. Piers was someone he used, and he wasn't about to ruin their friendship, if you could call it that. Instead of deriding Piers about being scared of the snake at the zoo, he went with Harry bashing.

"Not a bad snake there, Piers." said Dudley trying to sound interested. It was to him, rather boring. It just sat there. The only thing it had going for it was the colour. "At least it's not like when that freak of a cousin of mine shoved you into the snake enclosure." A bit of artistic licence about the events of that day wouldn't hurt.

"Yeah, your cousin's just plain weird. " said Piers with a shudder of memory.

"You wouldn't believe what he did yesterday." said Dudley. His parents had told him many times to never tell anyone about anything Harry did. It was one of the few things he could do that made his parents mad with him. But yesterday had really shaken Dudley, and he really wanted to tell someone about it. His sense of self-preservation made him edit a few details though. Having Piers' parents ring up his and demand what the hell Harry was doing after Dudley had overshared wouldn't be a good outcome.

"He completely flipped out while making dinner. The food he was making ended up on the walls and ceiling, he scattered the chairs round the room, Dad ended up on his arse with a cooking pot on his head." Dudley smirked at that. His Dad was not pleased that he now had an egg-sized lump on his forehead. He hoped it would go down before he had to go into work the next day. Vernon had a number of important meetings to chair. "But worst of all, I was thrown across the room that hard I ended up unconscious! He could have killed me!"

Unfortunately Piers picked up on the wrong detail of the tale from Dudley's point of view.

"The Potter idiot threw you across the room, Big D?!" he asked with a mixture of humour and incredulity. The unvoiced laughter clearly painted across his face.

"Yeah, he went completely psycho, he was super strong. You know, strong like when really little people get the strength to lift cars off kids." said Dudley, hoping that this would go unchallenged as correct and would leave some of his dignity intact. He fervently wished he'd never complained about Harry. This conversation was really going downhill.

"Oh, yeah, that." said Piers, eloquent as ever.

"Hey - I've still got a concussion, you know!" said Dudley, going for the sympathy vote.

"Well, like you said - the boy's just a freak." With that came the end of that conversation. What more was there to be said?

"Right, Big D, I've got to feed this thing. It eats frozen mice. I'll go get one from the freezer. Back in a minute. You could take some home with you, and put them in the freak's bed to thaw." Dudley thought about that, a calculating look crossing his face. Seeing this, Piers sniggered.

While Piers was out of the room, Dudley heard a voice,

"I'm cold. Make its warmerss in here." Dudley looked round.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"You cans hear meee boy?! Greetingssss, ssspeaker. I've never come acrosss a ssspeaker before." Dudley thought the voice was coming from the vivarium where the snake was kept. Refusing to entertain the idea that the snake was speaking - who would? - he decided that Piers was playing a practical joke on him.

"Nice one, Piers, I can't even see the speakers that the sound comes from - you've got it coming right from the viv. Clever!"

"Idiot, you knows that I isss sspeaking to yous. Pay attention, boy. Make it warmer in here!" Dudley swallowed. He was scared. Was he off his rocker? He thought a snake was speaking to him. Did he bang his head last night when he fell? He looked around the room more carefully for the source of the voice. Nothing. He went out of Piers' room to listen at the top of the stairs, but unfortunately for his sanity he could hear the unmistakable sounds of Piers in the kitchen talking to Mrs. Polkiss. Dudley went back into Piers' room and looked at the snake.

"You can understand me? I can understand you? How? Do you speak English?"

"No, imbeciles, yous ssspeaks ssnake. Lissten to yourssself! does that woulnd like English?!"

Before Dudley had chance to either process that information, or respond, Piers was back in the room with the frozen mouse. Looking a bit white at the thought of holding a mouse and feeding a snake - although not as white as Dudley currently was - Piers lifted the lid of the vivarium and threw in the mouse. Dudley clearly heard,

"Thank youss, boy." from the snake, as it crunched on it's breakfast. Dudley's eyes bulged a bit wider at understanding the words.

"Come on, Big D, let's go to the park." said Piers.

"Sure. Um. Before we go, is your snake warm enough in there? It's a bit chilly in here, perhaps it needs its vivarium heating a bit more."

"Good idea." said Piers and turned the heat mat up two degrees.

"I issss gratefuls, sspeaker." Dudley heard. A look at Piers clearly showed that the snake had just hissed, rather than spoke from the other boy's point of view. Dudley was thankful when they got out of there, and into the fresh air. Knocking a few younger kids off the swings in the park was just what needed right now. Clear his head a bit.

They went to the park and spent a happy half hour shoving around the younger kids (surreptitiously so that their parents couldn't see) until the park emptied and they had the swings to themselves. With no-one left to bully, it didn't take long for them to get bored and head home. Not wanting to go back to the room with the snake, Dudley invited Piers back to Privet Drive. On their way back they saw two young children both holding an ice-cream. Time for some fun, thought Dudley. They both took up as much of the pavement as they could, and made themselves look menacing as they approached the children - a girl who was about eight and a boy around five. The children were standing in front of the Post Office, waiting for presumably a parent who was in side. The ice-creams were just getting unwrapped.

"Fancy an ice-cream, Piers?" asked Dudley, looking at the children meaningfully.

"Absolutely, Big D." came the reply. The two boys loomed up to the children. The little boy squeaked.

"You want to share those ice-creams, don't you?" Dudley asked, with harmonics of retribution for non-compliance resonating in his words. The girl shook her head.

"Mummy bought us them. It's the weekend. We always get an ice-cream at the weekend."

"Give me that!" said Dudley, making a grab for the food.

"No!" said the girl, and took at step back protecting her ice-cream and her brother. Dudley was not in the mood to lose out to a kid. First Harry yesterday, then the bloody snake this morning and now this.

"Hand me that ice-cream now!" came Dudley's voice, suddenly deeper and more penetrating. It bypassed all thoughts of argument, straight into the hindbrain. Both of the children were standing there, with their arms held straight out offering their ice-creams towards the boys. Dudley and Piers took the ice-creams and walking away.

"That was cool, mate!" exclaimed Piers. He was truly impressed.

Dudley felt a bit strange, but he couldn't put his finger on why. They ate their ice-creams and returned home to Privet Drive for lunch. By the time they reached the front door, Dudley had forgotten all about the strange feeling he'd got when he commanded the children hand over their treats.

After lunch, Dudley and Piers spent the afternoon in Dudley's room playing on the computer console he'd given for his birthday.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk at Hogwarts doing his paperwork. The summer holidays gave him a chance to get everything outstanding completed and to prepare everything for the coming year. There were also a couple of professors that liked to stay at Hogwarts for either the whole of the summer, or part of the summer, and he used the opportunity to get to know them better. The school year was so busy, that socialising with the staff took a back seat to the day-to-day business of the school.

An owl arrived for him from the Ministry. Dumbledore unfastened the letter from its leg and began to read. It was from Mafalda Hopkirk. It informed him that underage magic had been detected near Privet Drive. It was far enough away from the Potter residence that they could not discount the possibility that Harry was _not_ responsible, however the Improper Use of Magic Office would be sending a representative to check the whereabouts of Harry Potter at the time in question. It continued to tell him about the importance of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery (as if he didn't know), and further implied that Dumbledore should keep a tighter rein on his students. Mafalda also explained she was aware that Dumbledore and Professor Snape had been to the Dursley residence the evening before to deal with a particular situation and that if Harry Potter could not be brought into line informally then more official channels would be used.

Dumbledore placed the letter on his to-do pile and continued with his work humming to himself and eating his ever present bowl of lemon drops. An hour later another owl arrived from the Ministry. Again it was from Malfalda Hopkirk. Confirmation had been received that Harry had spent the whole day inside the wards of Privet Drive. The magic had not been him. However, muggles in the area of the accidental magic occurrence had been interviewed. The Post Office clerk had seen out of window that on the street outside were two boys bullying two small children at the time and place in question. Thinking one of the younger children had performed accidental magic to protect themselves, the wizard investigating had found out the address of the children from the clerk - the children's mother had an account at the Post Office - and had gone round to the house. A few probing questions and memory modifications later resulted in the knowledge that neither of the children had performed magic.

Based on the descriptions of the boys from the Post Office clerk, and all the information that the Ministry kept about Harry, one of the two boys matched the description of Dudley Dursley. It would be a great coincidence if the accidental magic of yesterday and today were unconnected, so the wizard had gone to number four Privet Drive to find out what he could without being seen.

Mafalda then wrote about how the department can test for wizards. One of the tests they use to test whether someone is a wizard or not is to place an object charmed to be unseen by muggles near them. If they see it, they're a wizard; if not, they're a muggle. The investigating wizard transfigured a leaf into a butterfly and charmed it to be unseen. He then guided it up to the window of the room in which Dudley was. It flew against the glass. The investigating wizard was in perfect position to see Dudley react and try to catch the butterfly, much to the consternation and then amusement of his muggle friend in the room at the time. From this, in can be concluded that Dudley Dursley is a wizard.

At that point the letter ended abruptly, with a kindest regards. It was clearly now the problem of Dumbledore to deal with breaking the news to Dudley and his family that he was a wizard. Dumbledore sighed. Merlin help us all, he thought.

Dumbledore sat and pondered what to do for a good quarter of an hour. While he was thinking, a letter magically appeared on his desk. Automatically written and addressed by the castle, the letter's existence confirmed that it was indeed Dudley who had performed magic, and that as a wizard, his place at Hogwarts had been confirmed. Usually one of the professors wrote the letters based on names provided by Hogwarts, but it seemed that the castle had saved them a step this time.

He placed the letter in his robes, got up, and went to find Professor Snape - one of the professors staying at the castle for part of the holidays. He did a lot of brewing for St Mungo's and used the school's laboratories for the task. He found Severus relaxing in his study.

On being invited into the potion master's study he offered him a lemon drop as he popped one into his mouth. Severus declined.

"Severus, a matter involving the Dursley family has arisen. Have you been to see Harry yet today? Yesterday you said you would go do a check up on him."

"Not yet, Albus, I was going to go round after dinner this evening - give the boy a day to recover." He wasn't about to say out loud that it also had given him the day to mentally decide what to ask the boy so that he could find out what the hell was going on in that household. But now what was the problem? Why had Albus come to him?

"Severus, it appears that Dudley is a wizard." There was a moment's silence.

"What!? That great lump of a whale of a boy? No more brains than a chicken! And he's a wizard?! Albus, there must be some mistake." Snape exclaimed. It was rare he lost his composure, but the concept of that idiot being a wizard was beyond comprehension.

"The Ministry has checked and confirmed it. Dudley Dursley is a wizard."

"How did it happen, Albus? Something to do with yesterday evening and the Potter boy?"

" If there's ever been an incident of a wizard giving someone else wizard capability I don't know of it, but there's a first time for everything." said Dumbledore. "Perhaps Harry just wanted..." Dumbledore trailed off, realising who he talking to.

"Harry wanted what, Headmaster? There's something you know that you're not telling me."

"I have my suspicions. That is all. I'm not going to share just my suspicions, you should know that by now." replied Dumbledore enigmatically. Snape knew Albus wasn't about to share and gave up.

"Does Dudley Dursley even know?" Snape asked, changing track, his thought process coming to what could be an entertaining conclusion.

"Not yet. Neither does anyone else in the household." Snape grinned. Not what you'd call a pleasant grin, but rather an expression containing a certain amount of malice.

"Please let me be there when Petunia finds out." Snape begged.

"Of course, my boy. I wouldn't let you miss it for the world." replied Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. With that, Snape put on his best wizard robes - just the thing for visiting Privet Drive, thought - and the pair apparated to the doorstep of number four, Privet Drive.

* * *

Snape rang the doorbell. A bellow was heard from within,

"Boy, go answer the door. If they're selling anything tell then to get lost! If it's the brats from the garden behind wanting their ball back, tell them I gave it to the dog!"

Charming, thought Snape. The door opened. He got a certain amount of happiness from the look of horror on Harry's face to find two wizards dressed as wizards on the doorstep.

"Um. Sirs, erm..."

"Harry, we need to talk to all of you. Is now a good time?" asked Dumbledore gently.

"Who is it, boy?" yelled Vernon.

"Um. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape, Uncle Vernon." said Harry, nice and loudly, to be heard the whole way down the street. Snape smirked. That brought Petunia running.

"Then do not leave them on the doorstep, boy." she said, and ushered them quickly inside, her eyes darting furtively up and down the street before closing the door. They went into the living room, half of which doubled as a dining room for when guests came for dinner. Unwilling to make them comfortable on the couches in the hope that they would leave quicker, Petunia reluctantly offered them seats at the table. They were not, however, offered any refreshment. All six of them sat around the table. Snape made sure he took a seat from which he could watch Harry. This exchange might provide him with some valuable answers to some of his as yet unspoken questions.

Snape looked at Potter carefully. The boy looked withdrawn, and to be honest, downright petrified of them being there. Snape knew that Petunia hated magic, although it wasn't always that way, there was that time she begged to go to Hogwarts. But since then, she'd marrying a bullish, bore of a man, who did a boring job, lived in a boring house, and had what to Snape seemed, a boring existence. He could understand that having two wizards in the house wasn't going to sit well with Petunia, but to the point of scaring the living daylights out of Potter? He just couldn't fathom it. Potter's whole demeanor seemed to be centred around making himself as small as possible, not being noticed, doing as he was told. It's a shame he didn't follow that rule at Hogwarts, doing what he was told, but Snape had to admit, if this was what following the rules made Potter, he'd rather he broke the odd rule and was a normal child than be like he looked right now.

"What has the brat done now?" demanded Vernon, eyeing Harry maliciously.

"We have not come regarding Harry." said Dumbledore, carefully. "This afternoon, accidental magic was detected near the Post Office in the village. Accidental magic is like the magic Harry did when he ended up on that roof that time." he said, his eyes twinkling. Harry grimaced and tried to look even smaller under the glares from his aunt and Uncle. "We know that Harry did not leave the confines of this house or garden today. However, someone here was outside the Post Office today, and did indeed perform magic." Harry looked confused. Dumbledore continued.

"Dudley," he said, turning to look the boy straight in the eyes, "Were you outside the Post Office today?"

"What are you implying?!" fumed Vernon. "Dudders wouldn't ever do any of that freaky stuff!"

Snape watched Harry carefully. Potter was thinking, processing, working it out. Snape saw the look on Potter's face clearly when he realised what Dumbledore was saying. Dudley had done magic. Therefore Dudley was a wizard. There was shock in his emerald eyes, followed by something that it took a while for Snape to decipher. Dumbledore was speaking again.

"Dudley, has anything out of the ordinary happened around you recently?" and as Vernon opened his mouth to speak, Dumbledore said irritatedly, "and I don't mean the incident yesterday with Harry. I mean has anything happened because of something _you_ said, thought or did?"

Dudley thought for a moment, then looked guiltily around. There was no way he would admit to taking things off other people to his parents. They thought the sun shone out of his backside. Dudley opened and closed his mouth. He didn't know what to say. He was saved from speaking by Dumbledore.

"I think you realise that something like that happened. I'm not going to make you tell us all now, many incidents of accidental magic occur because of stress or fear. But sometime, perhaps you could share that with me." Dudley breathed a sigh of relief.

Snape was still studying Harry. Harry was now looking in amazement between Dudley and Dumbledore, and sending the odd glance to Petunia and Vernon. Vernon was looking shocked, bright red, the bump on his head standing out, and Petunia was looking something else. Proud perhaps? Snape realised what it was on Harry's face. It was hope. Undisguised hope. But hope of what? And why?

Harry was looking at his relatives in disbelief. Dudley was a wizard?! And then hope rose, rearing its head. Hope that if Dudley was a wizard his aunt and uncle would treat him differently. Hope that he wouldn't be called freak, or boy anymore. Hope that he might be treated with just a little compassion.

"Popkin! You're a wizard! You can do magic! I always knew you were special!" said Petunia, enveloping Dudley into her arms and squeezing him tight. Vernon's Adam's apple was going up and down at a great rate of knots. The sudden U-turn in his wife had left him dead in the water.

"Um, yeah, that's great, son." said Vernon, still unsure of what was happening. Wizards were freaky. The boy - Harry - was freaky. Petunia's sister was a freak. She married a freak. The less they had to do with them, the better. And suddenly, his son was a wizard. His mind was having trouble assimilating those two ideas.

Petunia was doing all the talking for the both of them though. "Oh, Dudley, you'll be the best wizard ever! Much better than the son of those two good for nothing idiots." she said with a nasty glance towards Harry.

Snape was watching Potter. He had watched the shock and disbelief, he had watched hope rise, daring for something, and then, he watched hope die. The boy's eyes went dead. There was nothing there. He just stared into space a foot in front of his face and sat there. Snape felt for Harry in that moment. Since when did he think of him as Harry, not Potter? He didn't know what was wrong, but he saw that the boy was ostracised from the rest of the family. He saw that he was last in the pecking order. He felt he should help in some way. There was a bit of his mind screaming at him about Potter being James' son, and he deserved every unkind thing that could possibly happen to anyone. But this was overruled by the voice that said, 'Anything for Lily's son, that was the agreement'. Snape remembered his own childhood. He wore an expression similar to Harry's much of the time. Snape really had to find out what went on in this household! It really was messing with his sense of the world.

"Harry," said Snape, "Yesterday I said I would check you over today. Perhaps we should go do that? If you would accompany me to the kitchen?" Snape rose and went into the kitchen, forcing Harry to follow him, whether he wanted to or not. Snape heard leaden footsteps follow him slowly. He looked at Harry's face. So forlorn.

"Harry. Would tell me what's that matter? Do your aunt and uncle have aproblem with you?" Harry shrugged. "A verbal answer please."

"Not really. They didn't like my parents. You know they told me they died in a car crash." said Harry.

"Harry, I'd like to talk to you..." that was as far as he got. Harry was shaking his head.

"No! Um, sorry. Er, No, sir. Um. I don't want to sound rude, but there's nothing to talk about. Everything's fine. They're just shocked. They were shocked and confused last night too." Harry had thought about this all day. How to persuade his potions professor to leave it the hell alone. He decided he'd be best off denying there was anything wrong. Not to give Snape any lose threads to pull on. Deny everything. And outright lie to his face. However hard that was, it was easier than telling the truth.

Snape sighed. Not yet then, he thought. He performed a quick diagnostic on the boy, and found there was nothing wrong. His ear drums weren't quite right but were healing quickly. Snape suspected Potter's magic was helping there.

"Have you been tired today?" he enquired.

"A bit. This morning. But I feel better now." Keep the answers brief, thought Harry.

Snape knew he was getting nothing further out of the boy that evening, and gestured they return to the living room. Dumbledore had risen from his seat and was preparing to take his leave. He withdrew from his robes a Hogwarts letter addressed to Dudley, and gave it to the boy.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr Dursley. This letter contains everything you need to know about the upcoming school year. If you need support with any of this," he included Vernon and Petunia in this, "please, do not hesitate to contact the Ministry of Magic and they will send a representative to help you understand the wizarding world. We realise for muggles this can be a very daunting process. I'm sure Harry will lend you use of his owl for sending letters." With that, he nodded at Snape, and they both apparated away.

Harry, looking at the three Dursleys, realised he wasn't going to be welcome or included, and went up to his room and fell asleep. He tried to stay awake and process what he'd just found out, but he was too tired to concentrate. He woke up more than once in the night to the sound of voices that drifted in under his door. Vernon and Petunia were having a long conversation about something he couldn't hear, but could guess at. This happened on and off until 3am. Then the household was silent until morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Summer

Next morning Harry was sent outside to do chores in the garden by Uncle Vernon, nearly before he'd finished his breakfast. The implication in Vernon's tone was go outside, stay outside, don't come back inside all day. The weather was nice. There would be relative peace and quiet, chores withstanding. Harry went outside.

In the kitchen, Vernon gave Petunia a distant peck on the cheek and ruffled Dudley's hair before leaving for work. This left Petunia and Dudley eating the remains of their breakfast in slightly awkward silence. Dudley, like Harry, had gone to sleep last night listening to his parents talking. Having an argument was a little strong, but the tones that had drifted up the stairs weren't always sweetness and light.

Petunia had made a decision, and she was going to drag her husband kicking and screaming to the same point of view. There was clearly nothing wrong with Dudley. And so long as it stayed away from the middle class suburban life there was nothing wrong with wizardry either. But she couldn't extend that to there being nothing wrong with Harry (Vernon had had no problem with that bit of last night's conversation). Lily had excluded Petunia and Severus had stolen her sister away from her. Petunia wasn't big on forgiveness, and she never forgot. Lily had married that good for nothing Potter boy, and they'd had the audacity to get themselves killed in the most inconvenient way possible. A second child dumped on their doorstep was not what she'd wanted to bring in with the milk that day.

So, Dudley was a wizard. He would therefore be better at it than Harry, just as he was better than Harry at their current school (their termly reports told her so). And there would be no more freaky things happen, now that Harry had got his way and turned Dudley into one of them. Dudley would never do anything to upset her - he would never do anything to upset the neighbours. It was all Harry's fault that her little boy had been turned into one of them. Blame lay squarely there.

All this had been explained to Vernon, who, although had a hard time changing his way of thinking, only had to adjust it slightly. Wizardry would happen elsewhere, away from him. Harry was, although not necessarily a freak, still to blame for the upheaval that was about to happen to their lives. And on 1st September, Dudley would go to Hogwarts to learn to be a wizard.

Petunia came out of her reverie and spoke to Dudley. "Sweetums, let's talk about Hogwarts." Dudley was a bit confused. Certain words were not allowed in the house. The m-word was top of the list, but the H-word came a close second. On a par with the w-word.

"May I see your letter again?" After Harry had left the room last night, they had all read the letter. The first page of the letter was self-explanatory, but the second contained information Petunia was unsure of. Where would they get the uniform and the books on the reading list? Was an animal compulsory? A broomstick, really?

Dudley had gone to get the letter from his room. When he returned, Petunia was thinking again. The overriding factor in her previous thoughts was that the natural state of the world should be that Dudley be better than Harry. Of course he would be. But Harry had attended Hogwarts for a whole year already. He knew more. Fast on the heels of this thought, was the idea that Dudley couldn't be in the first year, when he was the age of a second year. Just imagine how bullied he'd be! He'd be unable to cope - poor ickle Diddikins - something had to be done. Petunia read the letter again that Dudley handed her. She needed to talk to someone. Not Dumbledore - that old coot wouldn't understand. And certainly not Severus. someone who saw the world from her point of view. Someone with a certain outlook on life that was akin to her own. Now, what did they call a councillor in the wizarding world? Ah, that was it - someone in the Ministry. Petunia would write to the Ministry.

Dudley said he was going out to Piers'. Petunia nodded absent mindedly. Dudley left the house. Petunia went to Vernon's study to find writing paper and an envelope. After a number of drafts, much chewing of the end of her pen and a lot of thought, she finished and addressed her letter. She wrote her name and a return address on the reverse. That way whoever got this letter would see where it was from. Petunia was certain the Ministry kept a check on Harry. Hopefully she would get a reply quickly.

She went upstairs to Harry's room and went over to Hedwig who hooted quietly. A little distastefully - Petunia didn't know how to deal with owls (Dudley certainly wasn't getting an owl to take with him) - Petunia held out the envelope to Hedwig. Hedwig hooted and held out her leg. Petunia saw how to attach the letter, did so and Hedwig with a final hoot, flew out of the window.

Petunia went back downstairs and read her magazines, waiting for a reply.

Just before lunch, there was a tapping on the living room window. Petunia looked up and saw Hedwig. Petunia quickly let the owl in, again glancing around to see if any of the neighbours had seen. She opened the letter and read its contents. The Ministry was happy to welcome Dudley to the wizarding world, and would be pleased to send a representative to visit Privet Drive to talk with Petunia about everything a muggle needed to know when raising a wizard. Petunia was unsure of the word muggle. Dumbledore had used it last night too. She'd heard Lily and Severus use it. She wasn't sure it wasn't an insult. Petunia let it slide. She carried on reading. If it was convenient, a wizard would visit their home at 2pm today, and could Petunia confirm by return of owl.

Petunia quickly wrote a reply and sent it off with Hedwig. She had to admit, this was faster than the normal postal service!

Dudley returned at lunchtime. Harry was given a quick sandwich - no need for him to sit down - and sent back outside again. Petunia explained to Dudley that someone was coming round this afternoon to talk with them about the wizarding world.

At 2pm the doorbell rang. A man dressed in normal clothing, rather than the silly clothes the wizards were wearing last night, stood on the doorstep. He raised his hat,

"Mrs. Dursley?" he asked. "My name is Albert Lufkin. I'm from the Ministry. May I come in?" Thankful that the Ministry contained at least some people who knew how to dress correctly, Petunia invited him in and offered him tea.

Petunia explained to him that everything was very new to her. Albert looked surprised and checked that Harry lived here. Petunia explained that Harry kept himself to himself and never explained anything or answered any of her questions. She was interested and keen to support Harry, but he shunned her. He'd never fully accepted her as she wasn't his real mother. Albert had nodded slowly at her explanation, a look of hurt in his eyes, and he extended his sympathies. Dudley was by now sitting with his mouth hanging open in shock but a quick glance from his mother told him to say anything.

So then Mr. Lufkin explained about everything he could think of, from what the word muggle meant to what Diagon Alley was. From wizard money and Gringott's to O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. He explained about the school, about the Ministry and about Dumbledore. He carefully did not explain about You-Know-Who, the wizarding war, aurors or the death of Lily and James. Petunia asked about Azkaban. Dudley looked at her in shock, as did Albert.

"Something my sister once mentioned." said Petunia by way of explanation. So the wizard explained about the Wizengamot, Azkaban and dementors. He explained about what was real and what wasn't. About werewolves and dragons, goblins and house elves. By the time he was finished, Petunia, if not entirely understanding, had a vague idea about the wizarding world.

"I must say, Mrs. Dursley," said Lufkin, "it's a pleasure talking to someone who wants to know so much. "You clearly care about the world that your son is about to enter into."

"That's brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about next." said Petunia. "Dudley is a polite, well-mannered boy. He's always done well in school and he works hard. I do not want him to feel disadvantaged by being in first year, when his cousin is in the second year. I wouldn't want to say anything against Harry, but I think that perhaps he would treat Dudley a little less... equitably... if Dudley were in a lower year, if you see what I mean. For Dudley's sake, I think it would be best for him if he were with his peers."

Albert showed he understood what she was implying, "Mrs. Dursley, I did not realise. Dumbledore always spoke quite highly of Harry."

"I'm sure he did," said Petunia, "but then he would." Petunia didn't know the details about Lilly, James or their deaths, but there was something. Something that hinted Harry (or his parents, she didn't know which) was special. She fired that arrow, and hoped it shot home.

" Ah, yes," said Lufkin, "I understand entirely." He paused and thought for a moment. "I have an idea. Dudley cannot join in second year without the knowledge from first year in at least the key subjects. I'm sure with a summer tutor, and your son's clear capability, he will be able to pass exams during the summer to enable him to start second year with his peers."

Petunia was ecstatic. That was just the thing. A world where Potter were ever better than her Dudley? That world did not exist!. Dudley, by comparison, was looking rather dejected at the thought of summer tutoring. He enjoyed his summers. They were a chance to bully his way round the park and nick sweets from the corner shop. Petunia saw his unhappiness, and went with cajoling and then outright bribery,

"But Popkin, you must stand up to Harry. You can work hard and join in with your peers. Just think, for every exam you pass you can get £200." Dudley just saw pound symbols in front of his eyes and greed took over. If Albert had understood the exchange rate between muggle and wizard money, he'd have been shocked.

"Sure mum. That'd be great." He still wasn't convinced, but the prospect of money, the opportunity to bully Harry and to further his ability to play pranks using magic made him at least say he would comply. He got the feeling that arguing back in front of the wizard wouldn't end well.

"I will contact Hogwarts. I'm sure that a good tutor can teach the core subjects in the next two months - it is, after all, only first year level - it's not like it's N.E.W.T.s or anything. A class of one, and a keen, intelligent student has a good chance of being a resounding success. I will find out the core subjects that are needed as a minimum to begin second year and get back to you by owl with a list of subjects and a suitable tutor."

Petunia thanked him for his kindness and showed him out. By then Vernon was coming home - he'd finished work early after having an afternoon playing golf with the CEO of a rival company that Grunnings was planning to take over. Petunia explained everything to him. He just nodded. It was all moving a bit fast for him, but he trusted his wife knew what was best.

Harry had no knowledge of any of this as he'd been banished to the garden for the day and hadn't seen or heard the comings and goings at the front door, nor had he seen Hedwig on her various trips to and from the house. At dinner no-one said much, and Harry, told to go to his room after dinner as Dudley's favourite television programme was on, was none the wiser.

Late that evening, an owl arrived for Petunia, as promised by Lufkin, detailing that Dudley needed to pass the exams for the core subjects of Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology. Astronomy, although a core subject would not be mandatory, as it would be difficult to study in a muggle neighbourhood. Potions would be theory only. It had been arranged with the potions master that Dudley could do practical catch-up after the start of term, and Dudley would only sit a theory paper for DADA too, although he could learn some of the practical aspects if his tutor thought it necessary. Dudley would need to score an Acceptable or higher in each of these subjects.

Petunia was pleased with this response, although she didn't know that Professor Snape was potions master. She might have been a little upset about that bit of the letter if she'd known.

The letter also detailed that a tutor had been engaged to teach Dudley for four hours per day on weekdays, from 9am to 1pm starting the day after tomorrow. Dudley would be expected to complete homework for the next day's lessons. The Ministry for Magic had added number four Privet Drive to a derestricted list, so that underage magic would not be detected between the hours of 8am to 9pm.

Enclosed with the letter was a list of books that Dudley would need to begin his lessons, and it was recommended to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase these books. It would also provide a suitable opportunity to see some of the wizarding world.

A recommendation for the future was also included in the letter to get their fireplace connected to the floo-network (which Albert had explained to Petunia that afternoon). If they wished to floo to Diagon Alley tomorrow to save time, the nearest wizarding house belonged to Arabella Figg in Wisteria Walk. She had been contacted and told of the potential need to use her floo, and that the Dursley's could call on her at their convenience tomorrow.

Petunia smiled at the letter. Everything was going well. Petunia liked people like Lufkin. Organisers, people like her husband who knew how the world worked. But just a little bit easy to manipulate. Tomorrow they would go to Diagon Alley.

* * *

Harry never thought the day would come when he didn't want to be in Diagon Alley. But there was a first time for everything. Aunt Petunia, Dudley and himself had set off that morning to go to Diagon Alley using Mrs. Figg's floo. Mrs. Figg had been pleased to see Harry, but Aunt Petunia had taken one look around her living room and put her nose as high in the air as it would go - and not just because of the overriding aroma of cats.

Mrs. Figg had explained to them all how to use floo-powder, and Harry refused to look nervous about it in front of Dudley and his Aunt, but when Mrs. Figg had told him to make sure he got out at the right grate he got a bit concerned. He threw the pinch of the glittering powder into the fire, the flames turned emerald green, and he shouted "Diagon Alley" and stepped into the flames.

It was a bumpy ride, but he emerged with just a banged elbow in what was clearly Diagon Alley. He had time to straighten his glasses, dust a bit of soot off his clothes and massage his elbow before Dudley arrived, and shortly after, Aunt Petunia. They were doing a lot of coughing and spluttering and Petunia was clearly underwhelmed at wizarding transportation. Fortunately, she didn't say anything about it, she just sniffed.

Dudley was standing with his jaw on the floor. Harry realised he'd done that a lot recently, and hoped that wasn't how he himself looked for a large part of last year. The street was bustling with it being the school holidays. Dudley wanted to go everywhere, and nothing was too good for Petunia's little Dinky Duddydums. Dudley saw the joke shop first and demanded they go there. Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop had never racked up so many sales in such a short amount of time. Harry made a mental note to take extra care for the rest of summer as Dudley was more than likely to use his purchases to get at Harry.

After that, Dudley started whining, so Petunia took them both to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Dudley was bought the biggest ice-cream Harry had seen. Harry was made to just sit and watch him eat it. The wizarding world certainly did things bigger and better than anyone else. Muggle ice-creams didn't come close. Petunia decided that after that they'd go to Flourish and Blotts to get Dudley's first year books, and secure him a wand from Ollivanders. These were the bare essentials for his summer's study.

Petunia was torn between giving her son everything he wanted and getting out of Diagon Alley as quickly as possible, as she really wasn't comfortable here. Harry had ended up carrying all of Dudley's books around after they'd purchased them. They were heavy and there were a lot of them.

When Dudley started whining again about wanting another ice-cream, as if he hadn't just eaten one and the remains were there for all to see on his chin, was when Harry came round to the opinion that he just wanted to get out of Diagon Alley. It had lost all of its charm, appeal and joy. At least there was only Ollivanders to go.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Dursley. I'm glad you've made an appearance." said Ollivander.

"How?..." began Petunia.

"I wouldn't ask - he just knows things." said Harry quietly.

"Mr. Potter, how's your wand holding up? No problems?" but before Harry could reply he was off into the back to go bring out a selection of wands for Dudley to try. After waving a few wands at the instruction of Ollivander, Dudley got a shower of sparks from the fifth wand he tried.

"Birch with troll whisker core. Very strong wand that." said Ollivander with satisfaction. "Shows you've got good potential for some strong magic there." The look of fawning adoration on Petunia's face towards Dudley at that point was enough to make Harry want to throw up.

"I said my Sweetums would be the best!" she said, giving Dudley and hug and a ruffle of his hair. Dudley looked embarrassed at this display of affection in a public place, but on the off chance that he'd be getting a reward later, didn't make a big deal out of it.

After promising Dudley a return trip (with Uncle Vernon as well) later in the holidays, as he would have to get books for his second year, and robes etc, Petunia escorted them back to the floo and went home via Arabella Figg's. On the way back to Privet Drive from Wisteria Walk, Petunia had to tell Dudley a number of times to put his wand away. He was clearly desperate to try it out. Again Harry made a mental note to stay out of the way. Nothing good could come of him being in the vicinity of Dudley when he was learning magic.

That evening Harry was sitting in his room reflecting on his day. He should be happy that he got to see Diagon Alley. He should be happy that Petunia had managed to deal with a number of wizarding issues like the floo without having a complete melt down. He should be happy that Dudley being a wizard meant that they could no longer call him a freak. He should try to believe that life was going to be just that bit nicer to him. But he couldn't bring himself to believe in any of those things.

He'd watch how Petunia, and to an extent Vernon, had treated Dudley on discovering he was a wizard just two days ago. They'd been shocked. There had been unspoken blame. That meltdown of Harry's had clearly been some sort of trigger. But Petunia had accepted Dudley as a wizard surprisingly well. But that hadn't changed how they treated him. He'd still been made to do all the chores, make the dinner, stay out of their way and not be included. They had someone in the house that they could talk to about discovering that one day, suddenly you're a wizard, but no, he'd been sent to his room and ignored. Petunia had got someone from the Ministry to explain it to them instead. That nugget of information he'd found out from an unguarded comment of Petunia's that morning. It just wasn't fair. The only difference was that he wasn't being called freak. And he wasn't sure how long that would last. He was sure Vernon would find a way.

When the tutor arrived next day Dudley had been all set up and ready to learn at the table in the living room. Petunia made to send Harry away. The tutor had been surprised by this and asked Harry if he wouldn't rather stay and get his summer homework done as he was sure Harry had plenty to do. Petunia had insisted however, citing Harry as being a disruptive influence in the classroom and he could go do his homework in his room. His made Harry rather happy in fact, being able to do magic in the privacy of his room, as he had to be given all his school things that Vernon had locked away in order to do his homework and that included his wand. And with the underage magic restriction lifted during the day no-one would know what he was up to. He wasn't even too unhappy when the tutor said he would look over Harry's work each day too. At least someone round here cared about what he did!

The tutor stayed until one, and Dudley then had homework to do which he complained about incessantly, but Petunia wasn't giving in to his usual tantrums and he had to do it. She did promise him vast quantities of sweets and computer games as bribery though.

That pattern formed the basis of the next six weeks. From Monday to Friday Dudley spent the mornings with his tutor, Harry was confined to his room to do homework (although he did get rather a lot of practice at some of the charms, especially the levitation charm and the fire-making spell. He had a feeling they could be used in not quite their intended way at some point in the upcoming year). After lunch, Dudley was made to sit and do homework eating the promised vast quantity of sweets as he did so, while Harry was made to do an increasing amount of chores. He noticed a correlation between the size of Dudley's tantrum at being made to do homework and either the amount, nastiness, or both, of the chores he was assigned. In the evenings Dudley either watched whatever he wanted on the television, or went round to Piers'. On the few occasions Harry was allowed out of the house in the evenings (never during the day - if Dudley was stuck inside doing homework, Harry certainly wouldn't be having any kind of fun) he went to the park, but was quickly seen off by Dudley and Piers.

At the weekends Dudley was taken to anywhere you'd care to think of as a reward for doing work during the week. Sometimes the three of them went, and sometimes they went with Piers. The cinema and mini golf were popular with Dudley, as they were an opportunity to either sit doing nothing eating popcorn for hours, or the opportunity to swing a golf club at inanimate objects and 'accidentally' hit other things at the same time. Harry was left at home doing chores, with threats from Vernon that they'd all better be done before they got home or else!

Harry had been right about Dudley and magic when it came to Harry. Dudley had persuaded his tutor after the first two weeks to show him the stinging hex. That went about as well as Harry imagined it would. Between the hours of 8am and 9pm Monday to Friday, Harry had to make damn sure he knew where Dudley was. Else Dudley would sneak up on him and at every opportunity fire a stinging hex to his backside. And as usual, retaliation was met with retribution from Vernon. The worst incident was when Harry had got fed up of being hexed after the umpteenth time and had snatched Dudley's wand out of his hand and thrown it out of the window. Dudley had gone running to Vernon, saying Harry had just taken his wand for no reason. Dudley had gone outside to fetch it as Vernon was advancing on Harry, his face a mottled shade of red.

"Uncle, Dudley fired a hex at me first. He's always doing it!" said Harry, hoping that for once his uncle would listen. Fat chance!

"I never did. I was practising my homework, and my hand slipped." said Dudley, feigning innocence. Harry had to give it to Dudley, the boy could act like he wouldn't hurt a fly at the drop of a hat.

"Do show me what you were doing." said Vernon, taking the opportunity to try to understand a little about magic. That morning he'd got an ear bashing off Petunia for not being encouraging enough with Dudley.

"I was just thinking about the charm I learnt this morning, and I was just twiddling my wand like this..." said Dudley as Harry got another stinging hex to his behind. Harry rubbed his rear while Vernon smirked nastily.

"Well that saves me a job." was all he said, and turned and walked away. Great, though Harry, Dudley now has Vernon's tacit permission to hex me. It was going to be a long summer!

The morning of Harry's birthday came round. He'd had no letters from his friends all holiday so far. He hoped that today would be different. Surely they hadn't forgotten about him?

"Now, as we all know, today is a very important day." said Uncle Vernon at breakfast.

Harry, hoping that Vernon had remember his birthday for once was disabused of that notion by talk of the Masons coming to dinner. All day had been preparation, and Harry had eventually been sent to his room.

Finding a house elf on his bed hadn't been amusing. Neither had being told he couldn't return to Hogwarts by said elf. Add to that, finding out that the elf had been stopping his letters and then dropped Petunia's pudding of sugared violets and cream, and all in all it was a horrific day. The only consolation was that although Dobby had performed magic, the Ministry wouldn't blame Harry or Dudley as it was during the week and it was still before 9pm.

The next morning Vernon grounded Harry for the remainder of summer unless he was handing in, or collecting work form, the tutor. After all, it wouldn't do if the tutor got wind of anything untoward in the house, thought Harry bitterly.

Three weeks away from the end of the holidays, Dudley had to sit Hogwarts exams. He had three days in which he had to sit exams morning and afternoon for all his subjects. On the first day he had Transfiguration in the morning and History of Magic in the afternoon. On the second day, Potions then Charms and the last day DADA and Herbology. His exams would be invigilated by his tutor, but a professor came from Hogwarts to start each paper and then returned to collect it at the end of the exam. Harry was allowed out of his room on all three of those days to pretend like life was normal.

Harry didn't realise that he would be so happy just to see Professor McGonagall when she came. She brought with her Harry's letter for second year as well as Dudley's exam. After Dudley had started his paper, Professor McGonagall asked Harry if he wanted to go for a walk around the block. Harry was so happy to be out of the house, he didn't care that McGonagall was wearing wizarding dress and getting a few funny looks from the neighbours. He was just happy to be able to talk to someone about simple things like quidditch. She asked him if he was feeling completely better after his accidental magic at the beginning of summer, which Harry assured her of. When they got back to the house, she apparated away until the end of Dudley's exam when she came to collect the paper.

That afternoon, Harry had a similar experience with Professor Flitwick, this time passing the time of day talking about duelling - something Flitwick said he'd been a champion of in his younger days. All in all, it was one of the better days of the holidays.

Next day was Potions. That meant Professor Snape. Harry was dreading Snape visiting. Not only was he his most hated professor, but he'd been asking too many questions recently. Questions Harry didn't want to answer. Harry tried to work out a way to avoid Snape's visit, but came up short.

Professor Snape arrived on the doorstep of number four Privet Drive armed with Dudley's exam paper, and a lot of unanswered questions. He was going to get answers. He knew he had to go about it gently (if only he could just legilimens the boy!) without making him freak out, but he really wanted to know what on earth was going on. What was wrong with the Dursleys? He knew Petunia wasn't a nice person, but he couldn't see them abusing the boy, could he? He made a mental note to check for bruises. What did Dumbledore know? Snape knew Dumbledore often ignored what he didn't want to see in the name of the greater good, but ignoring anything to do with the Boy Who Lived? That didn't seem to fit. And what of Potter's accidental magic? What had caused it? Something big had upset him. But what? With all these questions swirling around in his head he rang the doorbell.

Having set Dudley going on his exam, Snape sought out Petunia.

"I think Harry might like a change of scenery, and it must have been hard for you to have to two wizards in the house for the summer. Perhaps you would permit me to take Harry to Diagon Alley for the morning?" Snape asked her, applying a bit of the buttering up principle to get his own way. Harry out of his natural environment might open up a bit more.

Petunia shrugged. "If you like. He's a handful though. You won't want to do it twice." No opportunity was missed to put the boy down in her eyes. And the more professors that heard that the better.

"I'm sure I can handle one twelve year old. So long as you give me permission to act in loco parentis."

"As you like, Severus. Just remember I told you so." and with that Petunia left the room. Snape went to find Potter and told him they were going to Diagon Alley for the morning.

On one hand Harry was happy to get away from the house - he'd been cooped up for weeks, but on the other he was alone with Snape, who was free to ask questions. It can't be that bad, thought Harry, we're in a public place, he's got to be at least civil. Snape told him to take hold of his arm and he side-along apparated them to Diagon Alley. The sensation made Harry want to throw up. He took a few deep breathes and recovered himself quickly though. He really didn't want to look weak in front of Snape.

Snape wanted to put the boy at ease, but didn't want to appear out of character in front of him. He got the feeling Potter would be suspicious.

"You must have come here to get Dudley's books. Did you get chance to look around too?" he asked.

"No, Aunt Petunia seemed a bit overawed by the place and left quite quickly. We went to Fortescue's for Dudley though." said Harry, opting for a bit of honesty. No point irritating the man straight away.

"So no chance to see the quidditch supplies? There's a new broom out - I thought perhaps you'd seen it when you were here. Call yourself a seeker?" Snape thought that was well done, carrot and stick together. Hopefuly the boy would want to visit the shop now, but hopefully only heard the barb. Sure enough, Harry glared at him.

"No, we didn't go to the quidditch shop. Have you seen the size of Dudley? On a broom? Really?" said Harry, with uncharacteristic nastiness. Snape filed that away. There was no love lost between the two cousins at any rate. He couldn't help smirking at the mental image of Dudley on a broom though. Potter was right there.

So they went into Quality Quidditch Supplies and Harry got to drool over the new Nimbus 2001 for twenty minutes, before Snape, rather bored with the concept of just staring at a broom, suggested they go to the teashop for some refreshments. Harry wanted to say no, but his stomach said yes. The single dry slice of toast he had got for breakfast had been a long time ago.

The teashop was quiet - there were only another two tables in use. Snape took them to a corner table away from anyone else to give an appearance of privacy and ordered tea for himself and pumpkin juice for Harry.

They managed an attempt at desultory conversation - the Nimbus 2001, how busy Diagon Alley was, the weather. Snape then moved onto Hogwarts - Peeves, Hagrid, Gryffindor's chances at winning the cup again. After a while the conversation was clearly circling an unasked questions and Snape took the plunge.

"Are you completely better after the beginning of summer?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you." replied Harry guardedly.

"How did Dudley's studying go?"

"About as well as you'd expect - you have met him." said Harry without malice.

"How has Dudley being a wizard affected your aunt and uncle?" he asked, closing in on the topic he wanted.

"Aunt Petunia's kind of OK with it - supportive - I suppose. Vernon's his usual self."

"What is his usual self like? Nice? Angry? Distant? " Harry could see where Snape was leading. He couldn't easily answer that question. So he just shrugged. Snape changed tack.

"How are your relatives with magic? Surely they must find it strange to see Dudley performing magic. You've obviously never done deliberate magic in front of them due to the restriction."

Again, Harry shrugged, but followed it up with "They're a bit upset when things appear, or levitate, but they're getting better."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant their mental adjustment to Dudley being a wizard? They always knew you were a wizard, and could take care of you accordingly, but Dudley must have come as a bit of a shock."

Ha! Thought Harry angrily. Take care of me accordingly. What did he know? Not that Harry had any intention of enlightening his professor. That was certainly something he'd hold against him and use at a later date. The Boy Who Lived, and no-one cared. Grew up not knowing he was a wizard with relatives who wished he'd never been born! Yeah, like those words would ever come out of his mouth!

Harry suddenly felt trapped. These questions would go on incessantly until he gave something away. He just had to get out of there. Panic took over. He stood up and ran out of the teashop before Snape had chance to process what he'd done, never mind grab his arm to stop him leaving.

Snape got up to follow, but realised he had yet to pay for the drinks, and while he was fumbling for a few sickles, Harry was legging it as fast as he could. He didn't care where he was going. The fact that it was away was important. By the time Snape had left the teashop and looked up and down the street, Harry was nowhere to be seen. Frantically Snape began to search for him.

Harry eventually stopped running when his heart was pounding out of his chest and he couldn't run any further. He looked around. He didn't know where he was. The street was darker and more enclosed than Diagon Alley, the shops closer together. The people in the street didn't look the sort you walked up to and said "Excuse me, I'm lost, could you help me?" They looked more the sort of people you avoided at all costs. An enormous shape loomed towards him and blocked out the remainder of the light. Harry's knees started to shake.

"Harry! What the ruddy hell are you doing here?!" boomed a voice, the dark shape in front of him coalescing in to Hagrid.

"Um. I got lost." replied Harry, somewhat lamely. Fortunately Hagrid wasn't going to question him further at the moment.

"Come on! Knockturn Alley indeed! This isn't somewhere you should ever be, especially not alone." and with that, took Harry's hand and guided him out of the narrow street and back into the bright daylight of Diagon Alley. Harry felt relieved to be away from that place. It was creepy. Right up until the moment he saw Professor Snape across the street who'd just spotted them and was bearing down on Harry like an avenging angel. Harry's stomach turned somersaults. I'm dead.

"Hagrid." said Snape, nodding to the gamekeeper.

"Professor, I was just escorting Harry out of, would you believe it, Knockturn Alley. Says he got lost. I'm just wondering who he's here with." At the words Knockturn alley Snape's face had gone even darker if that were possible, he's eyes boring into Harry's. Harry gulped. Is there worse than dead?

"He's with me. We got separated for a moment." said Snape silkily, and with that took hold of Harry's arm, not entirely gently. "We'll be going now. Thank you Hagrid." Hagrid bid them goodbye and ambled away. Snape impaled Harry with his best glare, and without warning apparated them back to Privet Drive.

On entering the house Snape told Harry to go to his room, in a tone that meant it was not a request, and certainly wasn't up for discussion. Harry went. Snape went to the kitchen to calm down - Dudley's exam still wasn't over, as they'd come back early, and he found it fortunately empty. Of all the irresponsible idiotic things! The boy had a death wish going to Knockturn Alley like that. Snape spent ten minutes calming himself down else he'd go straight upstairs and murder the boy! When he was suitable calmer he climbed the stairs, knocked on Harry's door, and entered the room without waiting for a response.

Harry was on his bed, sat on his pillow, his knees up to his chest with his arms clasped around them. Snape sat down on a stool by Harry's desk and wordlessly and wandlessly locked the door and put up a silencing charm.

"Well?" he asked. Harry tried to form a response, but everything he thought of died in his throat. Snape went with the lecture.

"Do you realise how dangerous Knockturn Alley is?" He demanded angrily. "Do you realise that there are people in the world who wouldn't think twice about harming you? There are still supporters of You Know Who out there, people like Quirrell - you remember him don't you? Had another wizard living in his head and tried to kill you a few months ago?!" said Snape venomously. He had to work at suppressing his anger. He really wanted to shake the boy's head from his shoulders.

"What would you aunt and uncle say if you'd been harmed?" he demanded sharply. He didn't think about the question he'd asked, it just came out. When dressing down his Slytherins, appealing to their sense of family name and calling into question their actions for fear it bring disrepute to the family always got them to disintegrate into apologies. There was instead a long silence.

"They wouldn't care." said Harry in a small voice, without looking up. His trainers were proving fascinating about now. Snape was shocked. Not entirely that Petunia and Vernon wouldn't care - he'd got enough hints, and seen enough that he was suspicious, and the muggle phrase about there being no smoke without fire was ringing true. But he was shocked Harry had answered him. There was just a little chink in Harry's armour. He'd been let in just a little.

"And what do you think Molly Weasley would think if it was one of her children that ran off on their own in Diagon Alley? I'm sure you've talked with Ron enough last year to know how she'd react!" he asked. Harry's cheekbones coloured. Snape noticed, and continued. "You think she'd be pleased? Although knowing Molly, I'm sure she'd react the same way for you." Yes, he thought, make the boy squirm. He deserved to feel guilty about it.

"Knowing a few things that Ron and the twin have said, I think it would involve a wooden spoon." stammered Harry quietly, now a very bright shade of red.

"I'm sure it would." Snape certainly couldn't contradict that answer, he'd met Molly more than once when she was in a fit of pique over something the twins had got up to at school. "You don't raise that many boys without learning how to keep them in check." said Snape in reply. "And how do you think _I_ should react to find the boy under my care running off down Knockturn Alley, putting himself in danger?" ask Snape in a very dangerously quiet voice.

Harry swallowed. "Um."

"Articulate as ever, Mr. Potter." said Snape. "Now, when I got permission from your aunt to take you out today, I ascertained that I could act in loco parentis. Do you know what that means Potter?" Harry shook his head. "It means that I can act in place of your parent or guardian. Now, we have established that you ran off and went into Knockturn Alley on your own and put yourself in danger. The question is, what am I going to do about it? In the wizarding world, Mr. Potter, there are more immediate dangers than in the muggle world. Parents tend to dissuade their offspring from doing the stupidest of things rather directly." Harry looked worried. His brain ran the last bit of the conversation through his head again and connected with what he'd said about Mrs. Weasley dealing with her boys. He had a very horrible suspicion about where Snape was going.

The potions master saw Harry's realisation and had to hold back a smirk. He really could read the boy's face like a book.

"I believe you just worked out what's going to happen next, Mr. Potter. Do you have anything you want to say?"

Like what? thought Harry. Please don't spank me because I don't want you to wasn't going to cut it. He shook his head.

"Very well. Come here. " he said softly, without malice. Harry didn't move. "Do not make me come over there and fetch you, else you will sorely regret it." said Snape, emphasising the word sorely just a tiny bit. As if his body weighed a ton, Harry stood up off the bed, but didn't move towards Professor Snape. Snape chose to wait. Harry accepting his punishment would be better than it being forced up him.

Harry's heart was beating as fast as when he'd stopped running in Knockturn Alley. His eyes threatened tears. He was going to get a spanking from his most hated professor. After all this summer had brought, he was now down to this. He wished the floor would open up right then and there and swallow him whole. He took two steps forward to be within reach of Snape. Snape took hold of his arm and guided him over his knee. Harry felt very vulnerable lying there over Snape's knee waiting for the inevitable. He was determined to be Gryffindor about it, Snape wouldn't see him cry like a baby. That thought lasted right up to the first time Snape's iron-hard hand connected with his trouser-clad backside. God that hurt! Snape's hand rained down, repeatedly peppering his backside. After the fifth swat Harry was in tears and by the eighth he was crying out. Snape raised his right leg and landed four solid swats squarely on Harry's sit spots to make him remember the stupidity of his actions for the remainder of the day. Harry was by this time unashamedly crying every tear he had inside him.

It was over. Snape started to rub circles gently on the boys back. Snape was a bit taken aback. He'd put a number of Slytherins over his knee in the many years he'd been Head of House, and he knew a spanking hurt like the blazes. But Potter's reaction was a bit extreme. His tears weren't just for the fire in his rear end, Snape was sure of that. He continued to comfort that boy silently while the crying reduced to hiccoughing and sniffing. When the boy had sufficiently recovered he helped him rise. The boy weighed next to nothing! He hadn't noticed at the beginning of the holidays when he'd run a quick diagnostic. Snape made a mental note to ask Madam Pomfrey to check him over in September.

Snape rose from the stool he'd been sitting on, put his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "You are forgiven, child." he said quietly, and was surprised to find a new set of unshed tears appear in the boy's eyes at his words. "I must go and see to Dudley's exam. I suggest you wash your face before going downstairs. They will not know anything - I placed a silencing charm around the room when I came in." with that, Snape turned on his heel and left the room. He collected Dudley's paper, nodded a goodbye to the tutor and Petunia and returned to Hogwarts.

Three days later, a letter arrived from Hogwarts for Dudley. It contained his results. He received an Acceptable in everything except for Charms in which he scored an Exceeds Expectations. Harry ruefully thought it must have been all that practice Dudley had had hexing him. Harry couldn't hide his disappointment. He'd been holding out hope that Dudley would fail at least one exam, if not two, and would at least be in with the first years. As it was, chances are, he would be sharing at least a classroom with him. Merlin! Where would be sorted?! Harry hadn't thought about that as yet. Surely into Slytherin - he'd fit well into Malfoy's posse Harry thought. Or better, perhaps the sorting hat would fail to sort him anywhere and he'd be not let in. That'd be nice. Fat chance, thought Harry. Knowing his luck Dudley would be sorted into Gryffindor and he'd have to share a dorm with him. I think I'd throw myself off the Astronomy Tower first he thought.

Petunia arranged for them all to go to Diagon Alley the day after, including Vernon, who'd taken the day off work, to go get them both their school books, robes and equipment for the coming year.

When they arrived in Diagon Alley Harry heard a squeal, turned and was suddenly assaulted by brown, bushy hair connected to his friend, Hermione.

"Oi, mate, over here," came a call from the other side, and bearing down on him was the whole of the Weasley household led by Ron. Harry got wrapped in a great big hug from .

"Mum, not so hard, he needs to breathe, you know." said Fred, seeing Harry get his oxygen supply cut off.

"We were so worried about you," said Hermione, "None of us had heard from you the entire holidays. What's that about?" she demanded in tones Mrs. Weasley would be proud of.

"My mail was stopped by a nutter of a house-elf. I'll tell you later." said Harry, not wanting to explain in front of so many people. There was a cough from behind him. Harry coloured. In his excitement to meet his friends he'd forgotten about who he was with. He went a shade paler. "Um, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, these are my Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon, and my cousin Dudley. You didn't really get to meet them at King's Cross." He added, just a bit vindictively, remembering the embarrassment of Vernon being so rude towards them before hauling Harry away.

Mr. Weasley extended his hand towards Vernon who looked at it like it might bite him before plucking up the courage to shake the proffered hand.

"Pleased to meet you." said Petunia, sounding anything but. An awkward silence descended before Hermione came to the rescue,

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should do the same. Mrs. and Mrs. Weasley, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, these are my parents." she indicated to her parents who were standing looking a little lost like you'd expect a muggle to do in the middle of Diagon Alley. That meet and greet went much more warmly, the Weasleys taking the Grangers under their wing so to speak. The Weasleys, Harry reflected, had this amazing ability to make anyone feel like they'd always known them and avoid all the awkward getting to know you stage. Maybe that's what family was like.

"Right then." said Arthur, "Where to go first? I suppose it'd better be to Gringott's so you can all change your muggle money. This way." he said, leading on down the street.

After going to the bank (Harry had managed to get in and out of his vault without his aunt and uncle seeing its contents) they agreed they'd meet in Flourish and Blotts in an hour which would give everyone time to get robes and various other equipment before getting their books together. Mrs. Weasley even suggested that afterwards they could perhaps all go to the teashop for some light refreshment.

So Harry was dragged around being Dudley's slave again (hold this, carry that) as they went to Madam Malkins for robes (both boys needed them), the quidditch supplies shop (Dudley couldn't play nor did he know how to fly, but only the best was good enough for Petunia's Popkin, and so a Nimbus 2001 became his) , and lastly the cauldron supply shop for Dudley to get the necessaries for Potions. After this they went to Flourish and Blotts.

It had just been embarrassing, Lockhart being that way, Malfoy picking on Ginny for being nice then having a go at the Weasley's financial status, and then there'd been that ugly altercation between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy. Harry didn't notice when Lucius had placed a book in Ginny's cauldron. Nor did he notice when Dudley, on seeing this, stole it for himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Hogwarts

The rest of summer passed, and 1st September came around. Harry wouldn't necessarily say it passed quickly. What with the tutor gone, the only outings he got from his room were for chores. He had plenty of time to brood on the unfairness of it all. In pretty much any other circumstance he'd be looking forward to returning to Hogwarts, but the idea of sharing the only place he'd been happy with Dudley really put a dampener on things.

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were running round getting packed. Honestly, the amount of food Dudley was shoving in his trunk, you'd think Hogwarts were planning on starving him!

Vernon and Petunia drove them to King's Cross and insisted on seeing Dudley to the barrier. As the barrier was magical, his aunt and uncle wouldn't be able to cross it, but it didn't stop them walking Dudley right up to it, constantly saying everything would be wonderful, their Dudders would be the best wizard there was and that he should write often. Harry might as well not have existed.

As they were approaching the barrier Harry saw Lee Jordan disappear through it. Nonchalantly looking around, Harry made a run at the barrier when no-one was watching. And bounced right off it. Shocked, he tried again. It didn't give. Uncle Vernon said "Give it some welly, boy!" Harry ran at it harder and bounced off again. Dudley gave it a try and couldn't get through either.

By this point there were a number of other Hogwarts families gathered at the barrier, as Vernon had set off in plenty of time to make the train. Everyone was standing around platform 9 3/4 trying to looking inconspicuous to the muggles around them, which was proving very difficult to do with a menagerie of cats, owls and rodents shut up in cages they didn't want to be in. One of the other parents had sent a patronus - Harry didn't know what that was - to the school, and a couple of minutes later Professor McGonagall arrived and forced the barrier open.

Harry, Dudley and the remaining Hogwarts students passed onto the platform to catch the Hogwarts Express. Looking up and down the train, Harry searched for the Weasleys, Hermione or Neville. He found Hermione and Neville in a compartment on their own, so he joined them, dragging his trunk in with him. He was, unfortunately, trailed by Dudley, who had realised that the only person he knew at all in the whole wizarding world was Harry. Until Dudley worked out the lay of the land, he would stick close to Harry.

The train was about to leave before the Weasleys came dashing on to the platform - they only just caught the train. Ron, Fred and George joined them in their compartment.

The atmosphere was awkward. Harry had never said anything nice about Dudley to his friends. Hermione tried to be inclusive,

"So, Dudley, are you looking forward to learning magic?" she asked.

"I already know some magic," Dudley replied superciliously, "I have passed the first year exams the same as you!"

"Oh!" She responded, and apologetically added , "I didn't realise. Did you have a tutor over summer?"

"Yes. I had to pass the same exams you did so I could be in the same year as my age group."

"Mate, that is a lot of work. And over summer too. Ughh." said Ron in tones of commiseration.

"Oh, but that's wonderful, isn't it, Harry! And to think, he caught up so quickly!" said Hermione. Anyone who studied in the holiday was automatically alright in her book.

Dudley wasn't used to not being charge of the people around him, but he'd had a conversation with Vernon the night before. Vernon had been quite clear.

"Son, the boy has so-called friends. Do not let them exclude you. Show them you are their friend. You needn't be. But let them think you are. That's how to get on and up in the world. Trust me, I didn't get where I am today - Director of Grunnings - by being the bottom of any pile of people. Rise to the top, son! When you know what's what, decide who your friends are. And remember, at the end of the day, Harry's sort - and I don't mean wizards - I mean people willing to be told what to do, to be controlled, to accept their lot in life, need someone to take charge. Be in charge Dudley, my boy, and you'll go far."

Remembering this conversation, Dudley realised what he meant. This group of people - there were five of them - represented Harry's closest (and perhaps only) real friends. He had to subvert them, get them to believe he was friendly Dudley, cousin of Harry Potter, then he could control the group and take his rightful place as the leader. He wondered how to do it? The twins (God knows which was which) would probably defend Ron if he did his usual trick of hitting someone until they did his bidding. Piers had been a pushover back at primary school for that. And their friendship turned out well. And what about the bookworm? He could spot a bookworm a mile away, studious with undertones of know-it-all on speaking. Now the dumpy, nervous quiet one in the corner - Neville, was it? You might as well have painted a target on his back! The problem was the twins. Dudley was big for his age, and not just around the middle - he was tall, broad shouldered, he could have easily taken a twin. Just perhaps not both of them when enraged - they probably had tactics too. And he was sure they only ever came as a pair.

He was mulling over how best to proceed when the door slid open and a blonde haired boy entered, shadowed by two apes - certainly not big enough to bother him, and clearly not a brain cell between them. He was surprised their knuckles didn't drag on the ground.

"'Afternoon, Potter!" said the boy with condescension.

"Shove it, Malfoy!" came the response. Ah, thought Dudley, someone Potter doesn't like. Perhaps someone to cultivate an acquaintance with?

"My father told me your cousin was coming to Hogwarts this year, and in our year no less!" turning to Dudley, "You must be Dudley Dursley. Pleased to meet you. Draco Malfoy." he said holding out his hand. Dudley shook it.

A voice behind Malfoy rumbled. It took a while for thought processes to happen in that head. "I don't understand Draco, why are you being nice to the mudblood?" There was a hiss off both the twins. Neville and Ron looked shocked. Harry and Hermione looked confused.

"What's a mudblood?" asked Dudley.

"Merlin, he doesn't even know that." said the second ape.

"It's a very rude word for a wizard whose parents are non-wizards. It's like questioning someone's parentage." provided George.

"You mean, he just called me a bas..." he got no further,

"Dudley, no!" said Harry, knowing where this would end up. He didn't want to lose house points before the term had even started! Harry however, was completely incapable, physically, of stopping Dudley. Dudley had punched ape number one a.k.a. Vincent Crabbe in the mouth. Goyle stepped up to help Crabbe, and got a knee to the groin for his trouble. When Dudley turned to Malfoy with his best menace face on, Malfoy turned a lighter shade of pale and exited the compartment with alacrity. He couldn't shut the door behind him, as Goyle was writhing around in it, but he get up quite a turn of speed of speed as he legged it down the corridor of the train.

"Mate!" said Ron, completely in awe. The twins were also surveying the carnage looking quite impressed.

"I don't know what's so good about it. We could lose points!" said Miss. Snippy.

"Oh, lay off, Hermione," said Ron, "He's not in a house yet." Crabbe was helping Goyle up and Goyle limped away being supported by Crabbe who had his friend in one hand, and held his bleeding nose with the other.

In the minutes that followed, Harry watched his friends. In under one hour, Dudley had wormed his way into his friends' affection. It was like primary school again, or the boy scouts, or anything else he'd ever done that involved other people. This was why he genuinely hated Dudley. And what was worse, Dudley did it deliberately and with intent to wound. He didn't miss Dudley looking over at him with a smirk and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

When the tea trolley came round, Dudley paid for everyone something (except Harry), saying that his parents had no idea of muggle to wizard exchange rates and had earmarked too much money for him that he couldn't possibly spend it all on himself. They thanked him. Thanked him! Harry was incensed. This was worse than he'd anticipated. And term hadn't even started.

A number of other Gyffindors came down to their compartment throughout the rest of journey, stuck their heads around the door and said to Dudley things like, Nice one mate!, Good shot! and Great to see them get it! and worst of all, Hope you're in Gryffindor!

Harry was in hell. That was it, he'd died and gone to hell. It couldn't be any worse! Well, it could, Snape could be there. Harry thought about that last bit, briefly. That wasn't entirely true. Snape, was, undoubtedly a complete git, but just a couple of moments over summer he'd shown he what? That he cared? Not very Snape-like behaviour. Admittedly, he'd also put him over his knee, but he had comforted him afterwards, which was more comfort than he'd had in a lifetime with Vernon and Petunia. Harry mentally shook himself. He was at a point where he'd decided Snape was better than Dudley. What had his life come to?!

As the train approached the end of the journey, the prefects called out for anyone not already changed to put on their robes. On arrival at Hogsmeade station, the familiar voice of Hagrid called for the first years to come this way. On seeing Harry and Dudley, he came over to them.

"Hi Harry! Dudley, you've got to come with the first years, so you can get sorted. See you later Harry." he said, propelling Dudley away in front of him down to the boats.

Harry and the others got into the waiting black carriages and were taken up to the castle. It surprised Harry just a bit that being around magic for only one year had desensitised him to the fact that the carriages appeared to move themselves.

On arrival at Hogwarts they were directed to the Great Hall ready to greet the first years. The head table had all the staff at it with the exception of Hagrid and Professor McGonagall who were dealing with the first years. Ron nudged him and nodded to the head table,

"New bloke! Merlin he's just as much of a prat here as he was in Flourish and Blotts! Not Snape's favourite person. Ha! Couldn't think of a nicer person to have Lockhart happen to." Sure enough, at the head table, Snape was looking decidedly irritated with Lockhart talking his ear off, gesticulating wildly. Harry momentarily felt just a bit sorry for him. He wouldn't wish Lockhart on anyone.

At that moment the doors to the great hall opened and Professor McGonagall escorted the first years in.

The sorting hat on its stool sang its song and Professor McGonagall called the first years up one by one to be sorted. Harry got increasingly nervous and the alphabet went on. Honestly, he was surprised the whole table couldn't hear his heart beating like there was no tomorrow.

"Dursley, Dudley" McGonagall's voice called out. Dudley went to sit on the stool. The hat was on his head for quite some time. Harry was now terrified. Not Gryffindor. Not Gryffindor. Not Gryffindor. Anywhere but here. Please. Please. Please. Harry pleaded with the universe. But to no avail, as the shout of "Gryffindor!" rang out across the room.

"NO!" shouted Harry. All noise in the hall stopped. Everyone looked at him. The look of consternation on his face was apparent. Dudley was swaggering to the Gryffindor table, grinning at him. The staff at the top table were staring at him. Professor McGonagall looked shocked. Dumbledore gave Harry a stern look, his eyes lacking twinkle and started to clap, which was picked up by the staff and then by the student body. And the sorting continued. And Harry just sat there, staring numbly into space in front of him.

As he was no longer paying any attention to the world around him he didn't see the conversation going on at the head table. Professor Snape had put up a silencing charm around himself and Dumbledore and was talking earnestly. It was comical to watch, as every time a student was sorted Dumbledore broke off the conversation to clap (which no-one could hear due to the charm) and then would start talking again. A keen-eyed person would realised that Snape was getting increasingly insistent about something, and Dumbledore would just keep shaking his head and occasionally gesture toward the sorting hat. Whatever Snape was saying must have been persuasive, as Dumbledore's heading shaking grew less. By the time the last first year had been sorted an onlooker would have seen Dumbledore shrug, (resignedly perhaps?) and he flagged down Professor McGonagall on her way to her seat. The conversation continued with the three of them, again, first with McGonagall disagreeing with something Snape was saying, but then, with interjections from the headmaster, also appeared to assent to something. By now, the whole school was watching, as now was usually the time for the Headmaster's welcome speech.

Dumbledore stood up, cancelling the silencing charm.

"Welcome everybody! Before I give my usual deep and meaningful speech (a few titters were heard at recollection of last year's speech), there is one further piece of business. I have been reminded of a little known invoked rule of the school. Perhaps I should explain. When you are all sorted into one of the four houses the sorting hat decides where to place you based on who you are. Who you are aged eleven is usually the same person deep down as you will always be. However, there is the possibility that someone can change, and that perhaps the house they are originally sorted into, is not the house in which they should spend their whole time at Hogwarts. At the discretion of either myself, or any of the Heads of House, " at this Dumbledore gave Snape a pointed look, "a student can be resorted. This does not guarantee a that person's house will change - that is down to the sorting hat, but rather it gives the opportunity for a person to be sorted into a different house. This request can be for any student, by any Head of House, not necessarily their own." Dumbledore paused for a moment, then continued, "Such a request has been made."

You could hear a pin drop. No-one had been resorted in many years. Not even the current seventh years, who'd been here six years had been witness to a resorting.

"So, by request, we have another student to sort. Potter, Harry!" Dumbledore called out. Harry sat in shock for a few moments. Professor Snape had asked for him to be resorted, he was sure of it! McGonagall certainly wouldn't, and Sprout and Flitwick looked shocked, so it wasn't them. Up at the head table a whispered conversation was still going on between McGonagall and Snape.

"Why, Severus? He's with his friends!"

"Tell me, Minerva, did his outburst just now suggest he's happy with the status quo?" asked Snape, acidly.

"If this is about you just wanting him to bully him further, getting revenge for his father, you will be very sorry indeed."

"Minerva, surprising though this may seem, I have Potter's best interest at heart in this. If he remains in Gryffindor you may tell me 'I told you so!' and gloat, and if he is moved into a different house, I'm not advocating Slytherin, by the way, although if that's where is chosen then so be it, then you would do well to accept the judgment of the sorting hat. Now, let's pay attention." By this point Harry had gone to the stool with the sorting hat, had lifted the hat off the stool and sat down, placing the hat on his own head.

"Ah, Harry Potter! Back once more. Was I wrong? Are you not brave and bold with all the characteristics of a true Gryffindor?" Harry knew he could talk to the hat from his last experience.

"Please, I cannot be with Dudley. I cannot! Anywhere but there. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff..."

"Even Slytherin?" asked the hat, with a dry chuckle? "Remember, you could be great, you know..." Harry thought about this. On one hand, there was Malfoy and on the other there was Dudley. On the great scales of life, if he compared the two, Malfoy would come out an angel. And then there was Snape. The man had bullied him mercilessly all last year, but over summer had shown interest - and not just out of curiosity for not knowing something - he had show something. Concern perhaps? Harry's mind ended up remembering the spanking he'd received from Snape, but afterwards he'd comforted Harry. Held him. He'd even taken care to save his dignity somewhat by placing a silencing charm around the room, and suggesting he'd wash his face afterwards. He hadn't been vindictive. He'd cared that Harry had put himself in danger.

The hat could follow along with these thoughts, "So, he's not that bad then. Well then, it'll have to be... SLYTHERIN!"

The room burst out into shocked chatter, there was an outburst from the Gryffindor quidditch team members, but none so loud as Malfoy's "What?! Like hell he is!" Snape interrupted his smug look towards Minerva long enough to raise an eyebrow at Malfoy and glare at him with an expression that said words would had later. Dumbledore rose from his seat.

"Well, Harry, if you could join your house..." he indicated with a sweep of his arm at the Slytherin table. Harry approached the table cautiously. A second year that he knew from Potions, Theodore Nott, shuffled up the benches a bit to let him sit next to him. Harry smiled at him gratefully and sat down. Dumbledore was still speaking, welcoming everyone and the new professor back to another year at Hogwarts. Harry didn't hear the speech however, he was lost in his own world. Lost sort of summed it up really.

Harry didn't eat much at the feast. If his life depended on it he couldn't have recalled afterwards what he ate. He didn't talk to anyone and they didn't talk to him. It was all so awkward, not malicious or vindictive, just awkward. As soon as the feast ended the prefects escorted everyone back to their common rooms. Marcus Flint called for the Slytherins to follow him down to the dungeons.

Once there, everyone gathered in the common room. Professor Snape arrived, and the room grew quiet.

"Good evening everyone. For those of you who do not know, I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. Welcome to all our new house members, and welcome back to everyone else. Before I leave you to settle in your dorms I have just a few words that I tell the house every year, but perhaps this year I need to spell them out very carefully. "

"Slytherin is a family. We are all part of that family. We work together. We are not divided, nor do we ostracise or bully members of our family. Any such behaviour will not be tolerated. Anyone willing to test me on this will find I am unbending on the subject and you will sorely regret it."

"Slytherin is not about being better than anyone else, but you will show a united front to the other houses. Unfortunately, Slytherin is not always seen in the best light. But you will do your best to make Slytherin a successful house, but more than that, you will make Slytherin a family. "

"The prefects will show you to your dorm rooms. Be prompt for breakfast in the morning. Good night everyone, and I wish you all a successful year ahead."

As speeches go, thought Harry, it wasn't a bad one. He wished that Professor McGonagall had done the same last year. He knew that Snape's emphasis on no bullying within the house was for his benefit. Well, he supposed it was for Malfoy's actually, but it amounted to the same thing. Harry followed Flint up to the dorms. He was shown to his and he'd been given the bed at the far end in the corner. Each bed had a small desk and chair next to it, green drapes hung around each bed for privacy and there was space at the foot of each bed for a trunk. Harry was grateful that the bed next to him contained Theodore. At least he was a Slytherin that didn't outright dislike him. Fortunately, Malfoy, although in the same room, was at the far end, but unfortunately surrounded by Crabbe and Goyle.

As Harry was unpacking his things, Flint returned with a note for Harry from Professor Snape requesting Harry meet with him in the morning before breakfast at 7:30 in his office.

After Harry finished unpacking a few things, it was late and he was tired. A few of the other boys looked the same way, and a general consensus was reached to turn the lights out and go to sleep. Harry drew his curtains, shut out the world and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: First Day Back

Harry woke up and for a moment didn't know where he was. Then he remembered yesterday. Great! He though sarcastically, Slytherin. It was 7am. Time enough to shower and dress and then report to Professor Snape's office. When he drew back his curtains the other boys in the dorm were showing signs of waking up. Harry was vaguely surprised that he hadn't woken up with green hair, or that all his clothes hadn't been stolen or something of that nature. Harry was first out of bed and he wasn't sure whether his new dorm mates were social before they'd quite woken up. Ron and Seamus certainly weren't.

That thought made Harry think about Ron. It was so unfair. He'd chosen to be resorted – he'd had the choice to stay in Gryffindor, he was sure of it. If he'd sat on the stool and told the sorting hat to sod off he was quite happy where he was, thank you, he was sure it would have called out Gryffindor. It's just that Harry knew he could not live in the same house, and probably dorm room, and share classes with Dudley. He just knew how that would have been. Horrific didn't begin to describe it.

What he wanted to have been able to do was tell the hat to resort Dudley, but that wasn't an option. He knew his outburst when Dudley had been sorted was rude – you had to do something pretty bad to get the kind of look he'd got from the headmaster. But he couldn't help it. Dudley was just a horrible, vindictive bully, and sharing a house with him would have been a waking nightmare.

So he'd opted for the next best thing, leave the house he knew as home, for his sanity's sake. He fervently wished he could remain friends with Ron, Hermione and the others. He'd have been happier to have been in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but the hat hadn't exactly entertained the notion of sorting him into either of those places. Slytherin it was then. Harry tried to think of the positives of being in Slytherin while he was in the showers – thankfully he was first up and had them to himself. But every time he tried to think of something, his thought process was derailed by the prospect of being in the same house as Draco Malfoy.

Harry got dressed quickly – noticing that his robes had been re-embroidered during the night and now identified him as member of Slytherin. He left the dorms, went down the stairs, out of the common room and made his way to Professor Snape's office. His raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the voice from within bid him enter. How did the man do that?! Was the door see-through?

His head of house was sitting behind his desk. "Good morning, Mr. Potter, I trust you slept well. Take a seat." He indicated the chair at the other side of the desk. His tone of voice wasn't exactly friendly, thought Harry, but it didn't contain the sneer and condescension he was used to from Snape. And he hadn't curled his lip at him yet. Perhaps things were looking up.

"I believe there are some things we need to discuss." began Snape. "I would like to draw your attention first to what I said yesterday evening. Namely, that you are welcome in Slytherin house." He paused while Harry took that in. "I do not mean that lightly, Mr. Potter, yet I do not think that you think that you are necessarily welcome. That is not the case. You are a member of this house, and you will be accorded the same respect as any other member of the house. This also means that I, and the rest of the house will have the same expectations of you as any other member of the house also." With barely a pause, he continued,

"Which brings me to what I have to say next. I have the utmost respect for Professor McGonagall, however, if you had been if my house last year you would not have got away with half the number of things that you did. Your respect for the school rules was intolerable. Your complete lack of work ethic was atrocious. But what is more, the way in which you did whatever you wanted with total disregard for those around you showed complete disrespect for the school and its staff. This will cease. Immediately." The last few sentences were spoken with force. Harry wanted to argue, to say he followed the rules, that he was polite to staff, that he worked hard, but arguing back right now didn't seem a clever idea.

Snape carried on in more genial (for him) tones, "This said, and there is no excuse for some of your actions last academic year, I am aware that your summer has not been, shall we say, pleasant." That wins the understatement of the century, Harry thought wryly. "Your cousin becoming a wizard cannot have been an easy transition, and I am aware from the little I saw that your relatives have, let's say, prejudices, regarding the wizarding world. Then, you come back to Hogwarts to find yourself stuck with your cousin. I do not have any siblings Mr. Potter, however I know that many children get on well with theirs. And although I realise Mr. Dursley is not exactly your sibling in the true sense of the word, it would be fair to say that you are very different from your cousin, and that sharing a house with him would not be good for your well-being. Your reaction last night confirmed this, hence I requested the headmaster have you resorted."

"I realise that you have friends in Gryffindor. If they are your true friends, they will remain so. No-one is trying to take them away from you." Hah! Thought Harry, bloody Dudley is! "You are twelve. You have six more years left at Hogwarts. In that time you will meet plenty of people. Many of them will become your friends, of that I am sure. But please remember, friendship is a two way street. Do not expect everyone in this house to make overtures of friendship towards you first. You will need to make an effort. Slytherin house has study groups. Join them. Do not sulk in your dorm. Make an effort to speak with people at meals in the great hall. You are not alone, Mr. Potter. Never think that you are. I am not saying it will be easy, but as the muggle phrase goes, the ball is in your court."

Harry had remained silent throughout Snape's speech. He couldn't disagree with the bulk of what he was saying. Apart from the middle bit, Harry didn't think he was that bad last year. I mean there was always a reason for his actions. He fought a troll to save Hermione, he flew without permission to save Neville's rememberall, he had been making notes in Snape's lesson rather than not listening. The list went on. Thank Merlin he never found out about the dragon though, Harry thought.

Snape was talking again. "Now, regarding consequences, Mr. Potter. Having Professor McGonagall as your head of house has perhaps meant that you have not experienced the full range of the penalties that exist at Hogwarts." Harry gulped nervously. He didn't like where this conversation was suddenly going. "The same options exist for all heads of house regarding punishments, but some choose different methods than others. Professor McGonagall has a tendency to floo-call parents when she feels a student has overstepped a particular line, and requests that the student's parents deal with their child directly. If you wish to know what that entails, I suggest you ask the twins. Although, given our conversation during the holidays in which I explained how wizarding families deal with their wayward children, I'm sure you get the picture." Yes, poster-sized, and in full colour, thought Harry.

"I, however, have a more active role in the discipline of students in my house. There is a tendency for parents to not be available all the time to come to school to put their child back on the straight and narrow, and so with a few exceptions where parents have specifically requested I send for them, I discipline my students in my house myself, with a note going home to explain the situation. Do I need to spell out for you what my consequences are, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "No, sir."

"Then I will only warn you that there are certain things you will not do. You will not put yourself in danger, you will never lie to me, you will not participate in fighting, dueling or any actions of that nature and you will treat me and other members of this school with the respect they deserve. Do try to remember these simple things." Snape gave Harry a few moments for this to sink in.

"Mr. Potter, is there anything you would like to add? I realise that this has been a rather one way conversation."

There were things Harry wanted to say. Things like, 'Like hell anyone in Slytherin is going to like me', 'Dudley is stealing all my friends', 'You don't like me and treat me unfairly', 'If Malfoy's disrespectful to me, I will be disrespectful to him, and like hell I'm going over your knee for it!' and then the thing Harry could and would never have said out loud to the man, 'I am alone. Whatever you say, I am back where I have always been – alone again.'

So Harry gave the only response that he could think of, he shook his head and said,

"No, sir."

"Very well. It is time for breakfast and then your first day of classes. I would reiterate, Mr. Potter. There are rules and there will be consequences. You will be held to the rules or you will experience the consequences. Remember to sit with your house at meal times. And report to the infirmary after class for a checkup. Have a good day, Mr. Potter."

"Why?" Harry demanded. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Because I said so, and Madame Pomfrey will be the judge of that. Dismissed, Mr. Potter."Harry opened his mouth to protest, but took one look at Snape's raised eyebrow and shut it again. He turned and left Snape's office. When the door was closed behind him he huffed, it was so unfair!

When he entered the great hall, he naturally gravitated towards the Gryffindor table until he caught himself and sat at Slytherin. He sat down next to Theodore Nott and said "Hi".

"'Morning, Harry." This is going to get awkward Harry thought, but mindful of the lecture (what else would you call it?) from Snape, he carried on.

"What are you having for breakfast?"

"Scrambled eggs and toast."

"Do you know what class you've got first?"

"No, Professor Snape hasn't brought around the timetables."

"How was summer?"

"Oh, you know." And the conversation ground to a halt. Harry knew Theodore wasn't being deliberately vague or ignoring him, it's just that when you've spent a year exchanging jibes in classes and essentially calling the other the enemy, it was hard to move on.

Harry was distracted by noise behind him, and turned to see a large group of Gryffindors troop in. Among them were Dudley, Ron, Fred, George, Seamus and Dean. They were all laughing uproariously. Ron looked very pleased – like the cat that got the proverbial cream. The others appeared to be congratulating him on something.

Harry turned away from them so as not to be obviously staring, but continued to listen. It appeared that yesterday evening after they'd gone back to their dorms, but before curfew had started, Dudley and Ron had sneaked out of the common room to play a prank on Filch. According to Dudley, Dudley had provided dungbombs (Harry had wondered what had happened to those from their first trip to Diagon Alley – he'd expected to be the recipient of one all summer), and they'd gone to Filch's office, checked to see if Filch was out and then gone into his office and set the dungbombs behind the door so that when the door fully opened they would go off. They'd also planted one in Mrs. Norris' basket, so that when she curled up on it, it would also go off. Harry had heard Ron start to say that he'd only something, but Dudley cut him off and said that Ron had been brilliant, the whole idea was his and that the plan was executed perfectly. Ron looked chuffed. If he were a cat he'd be preening himself.

According to Dean and Seamus, who'd heard it from a Ravenclaw, Filch had gone ballistic. According to Fred, you could still smell Mrs. Norris this morning. With that they'd all gone off in fits of laughter again.

Harry knew what Dudley was doing. He'd done it at their old school. Bigging someone up that he needed for something. Not for their own good mind, just for Dudley's. Harry looked over at the Gryffindor table. Ron caught his eye and smiled at him, as did the twins. Dudley though, looked at Harry, looked at Ron out of the corner of his eye and looked back at Harry with a nasty grin. He knew what he was doing alright.

"Mr. Potter, I believe your own table is in front of you. Exactly what is so fascinating with the table of monkeys over there is beyond me." Snape said quietly but deliberately. "Remember what I said." Snape had got all the way down the table from the far end to Harry, handing out timetables, and Harry hadn't even noticed, too caught up with his friends and his cousin. Harry blushed and took the timetable from him.

Harry continued his breakfast, making an effort to pay attention to the conversations around him. He noticed that Crabbe had a bruise on his nose and a black eye from his altercation with Dudley yesterday, and Crabbe was staring murderously at his cousin. If looks could kill, Dudley would be six feet under.

"Well," said Malfoy to Crabbe, noticing his glare, "What can you expect? It's the same household that produced Potter. You weren't expecting more than uncouth, were you?" There was suddenly silence at the Slytherin table. Everyone had turned to look at Malfoy. Marcus Flint was not looking pleased.

"Mr. Malfoy, come and speak to me after classes today. I think perhaps we should discuss the concept of house unity." Draco blushed crimson at the public reprimand. "Perhaps you would care to take that statement back?" Flint added.

Draco glanced over to Harry, and looked very awkward. There was a long pause. Harry decided that if he had to live with Malfoy they needed to at least to pretend to bury the hatchet. They would never be friends, but he couldn't bear having to deal with Dudley's campaign to ruin his whole life _and_ Malfoy's animosity at the same time. He also understood what Snape had meant about Harry having to make the first move sometimes. So he offered an olive branch,

"It's OK. It's not like we've had any practice at being nice to each other. Getting each other is a habit. And Dudley is a complete arse at any rate." Malfoy looked stunned that Harry hadn't waited and thereby forced him into an apology. Draco hated public embarrassment more than anything else. If Draco had been in Harry's place he'd have really made him squirm. Malfoy nodded at Harry gratefully, and breakfast continued at the Slytherin table. Towards the end of breakfast as Harry was getting up to leave, he felt rather than heard a presence behind him, and heard a whisper only meant for him,

"Mr. Potter, your efforts towards unity I appreciate, your language I do not. In future, choose different word to describe Mr. Dursley in public." By the time Harry had turned with an apology on his lips, Snape was already stalking away down the great hall, robes billowing behind him.

Harry inspected his timetable as he was gathering his things to get ready for classes. Slytherin shared Potions with Gryffindor, had Herbology with Ravenclaw and were on their own for the other subjects. The first class of the day was Transfiguration followed by Charms, both before lunch.

Harry sat at the front of Transfiguration. He decided on his way there that the best thing he could do for the time being was to make an effort in class. He had no friends in his classes and no-one to talk with, so he might as well study instead. Professor McGonagall greeted him warmly, her face showing concern for him. Harry was grateful. He might not be in her house any more, but she did truly care about him. There was a slightly embarrassing moment mid-lesson when he answered a question correctly and she got half way through awarding Gryffindor five points before checking herself. Harry saw Professor McGonagall's cheeks flush and she looked apologetic as she corrected herself. But all in all, it was a good lesson.

In Charms, Flitwick was just as supportive as McGonagall had been, and once again Harry sat at the front of the class, took copious notes, paid attention and answered questions. He was quite pleased with himself for collecting fifteen house points before lunch.

At lunch, Harry sat at the end of the Slytherin table nearest the head table. This way he could avoid any looks from Dudley, and he couldn't hear any of the banter emanating from the second year end of the Gryffindor table. It did mean that he wasn't particularly near any second year Slytherins though, but he could politely listen to the chatter of the older students around him. As he looked down to the far end of the Slytherin table he saw rather than heard a conversation happen. It started between Theodore and Milicent Bulstrode. There were frequent glances in his direction. Whatever was being said was about him and had been picked up on by a couple of students nearer to Harry, and again the glances started. A fifth year prefect girl listened to the conversation and looked puzzled, then pleased. She looked over to Harry and came and sat opposite him.

"Hi, Harry, my name's Nicola Bulstrode. I'm Milicent's sister. I'm sure you can see there's a bit of chatter going on down there," she said as she nodded towards the second years who had the grace to look embarrassed at being caught out so easily. "I just wanted to congratulate you on getting so many house points this morning. That's a rather unprecedented amount."

"It was only fifteen." He said, puzzled. "When Hermione's being keen she can easily collect twenty five. Even Neville usually gets a load in Herbology."

"I see what you're saying, but I don't think you understand. Slytherins don't usually get that many points. Even when we know the answers, we don't get points for them as often. They were saying that McGonagall even forgot you are a Slytherin. Do you see? That's just the way it is. But we'll take the points," she smiled, "that's what being Slytherin is about!" and with that she returned to where she had been sitting. Harry was suddenly less pleased about his points. Were they pity points?! Did he get points in the past for being Gryffindor? His achievements of the morning dwindled away, and once again, he was left feeling lost.

The afternoon brought History of Magic. Binns hardly ever gave points, and he could send anyone to sleep on a warm afternoon. Harry tried his hardest to pay attention. He made more notes than usual in Binns' class, and came away feeling like all he had now was study. He had no friends and no-one to hang out with. That left studying. Unfortunately, Harry knew he wasn't naturally good at study like Hermione, he didn't love lessons just for the sake of learning. He wasn't Hermione. At thinking that, he automatically started to miss his friend. She'd be proud of him for taking notes and paying attention. He missed her pep talks about study and homework already. Merlin, he wished it was like last year! Hogwarts used to be a fun place, a home with friends that were like a family should be. But now it was becoming just another place where the joy was being sucked out him.

History of Magic was the last class of the day and Harry remembered Snape had told him to go to the infirmary for a checkup with Madame Pomfrey. He certainly wasn't doing that. He had a feeling that having it was related to Snape investigating what was up with the Dursleys and he wasn't about to give him any ammunition. He knew he didn't eat properly there, and he knew he'd lost weight over summer, but he wasn't about to let anyone know about it! So Harry went back to the common room after classes, did some homework and went to dinner with the rest of his house.

At dinner, unbeknownst to Harry, Snape had asked Madame Pomfrey if he could talk with her at a convenient time about Harry's checkup results. "But Harry hasn't been to see me." came the response. Snape looked over to where Harry was sitting, eating desultorily, making little attempt at conversation.

"Potter never came for his check up?" Poppy shook her head. "He will be up to the infirmary directly after dinner" asserted the potions master.

As Harry was leaving the great hall he was accosted on a deserted corridor by his head of house. Snape looked both ways to see that they were in private, took hold of Harry's arm, turned him to the side and landed a hard swat to his backside.

"Ow!" said Harry, looking affronted, "What was that for?"

"I believe I told you to go to see Madame Pomfrey after class. You did not. Deliberately, I believe." Harry opened his mouth to deny it, but couldn't bring himself to lie so obviously to Snape. Snape had implied that morning in his office what the consequences of lying to him would be. He changed his response,

"Sorry."

"Believe it or not, Potter, I have your best interests at heart in this. I do not do this for the good of my health, only yours. As I do not trust you to get there by yourself, I will escort you." And with that, Snape turned and marched to the infirmary, leaving Harry no choice but to follow in his wake.

Poppy performed a full historical checkup of Harry, the results of which were that he was slightly malnourished, underweight and had a couple of old hairline fractures. Madame Pomfrey quizzed him about the fractures.

"I fell off the swings at the park. And the slide. And the roundabout." said Harry, the automatic response tripping glibly off his tongue. He knew better than to tell them that Dudley had pushed him down the stairs, trapped his arm in a door and dropped a frying pan on his foot. He hadn't told the lady who came into school when he was younger either. He'd developed a sense of self-preservation about what on at the Dursleys early on.

Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey clearly didn't believe him, but he'd had a lot of years' practice hiding things about the Dursleys. It had only even been Dudley that caused him actual injuries. Sure, Uncle Vernon often cuffed him up the side of the head, and threw him in his cupboard, and he'd had to duck Aunt Petunia's frying pan more than once, but his injuries were all Dudley. His aunt and uncle however, had never stopped his cousin, and for some things Dudley had done, Vernon had nodded encouragingly. Both of them had stood silently by. The injuries from Dudley had never been life threatening. The fractures were just that, rather than breaks. For one of them, Petunia had reluctantly taken him to the hospital – his foot really had swollen right up and gone a funny colour – but for the others he'd been thrown in his cupboard as punishment for disturbing Dudley's playtime.

Madame Pomfrey prescribed Harry a nutrient potion to take every morning with breakfast, but otherwise declared him healthy. Harry was dismissed with an admonishment from Snape to do as he was told, when he was told, next time. Either that or be prepared to scrub cauldrons every night for a week. Harry was sure he'd only got away without detention because Snape had swatted his bum, hard, in the corridor earlier. Harry had been surprised that that hadn't shown up on Pomfrey's scan it had stung that much!

Harry returned to the common room and finished his homework silently, sharing a table with his fellow second years, but too uncomfortable to feel that he could join in their conversation. At bedtime (he'd been surprised to find Slytherins were given a bedtime) he'd gratefully gone to bed just to get away from the awkwardness, although he could sense the others feeling the same level of awkward. Lying in bed he reflected he'd made it to the end of his first day back. He'd survived. The concept of surviving the rest of the year seemed an insurmountable task though. One day at a time. Surely things would get better soon, was his last hopeful thought as he drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Lockhart

Next morning, Harry looked forward to the opportunity to be with his friends. He had Potions first thing today, which as usual, had Gryffindor and Slytherin paired together. Harry wanted to arrive early so that he could pick where he sat - with his friends - but as luck would have it, he was waylaid at breakfast as Madame Pomfrey brought him a nutrient potion. By the time he got to class the Gryffindors were already sat down. Dudley had sat next to Ron and Lavender had sat next to Hermione. Neville was on his own - most Gryffindors avoided working with him in Potions - Neville was only ever one step away from an exploding cauldron and bringing down the wrath of Snape on anyone nearby.

Harry was curious to test a theory. Snape was nice to Slytherins in class. Harry was now a Slytherin. If Harry worked with Neville, would Snape leave Neville alone? More than that, would Snape leave Harry alone? Or treat him like the other Slytherins? Or carry on treating him like he'd always treated him? When Harry joined Neville at his bench, Neville first looked surprised, then to Harry's shame, grateful.

Snape swept into the room and began the lesson. They had to work in pairs to brew a sleeping draught. Harry was pleased to find that Snape ignored both him and Neville - it was better than Harry had expected. It wasn't quite as well as Snape treated the other Slytherins, but silence and being ignored was better than being picked on. As a result they managed to brew a half-decent potion. Neville was still clearly anxious, and kept glancing to where Snape was fearing that any second the potions master would come sweeping down on him. But by the end of class they had bottled and stoppered their potion and handed it in. While they were cleaning down their bench they got to whisper together,

"Thanks, Harry. It was good working with you today. Snape really is different now you're in Slytherin. If we can do this more often, I might stand a chance of getting more than a Troll for Potions!" said Neville with a grin.

"Yeah, you'd think that he wouldn't be quite so obvious about it, would you?" replied Harry.

"Here's a thought - do you want to meet up in the library after classes today to do homework. I'll bring Hermione along. "

"That'd be brilliant!" said Harry. "Can you tell Ron to come too?"

Neville looked like he didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, "Harry, I'll ask him, but I don't know if he'll come. Dudley's glued to him like a sticking charm, and to be honest, Ron's loving it. Your cousin's making him the centre of attention, and you know, what with him having his five brother complex, he's quite liking the attention. And the fact that it's the library and homework."

Harry tried to hide his disappointment, but failed miserably, "It's OK, but you'll ask him, yes?"

"Sure thing, Harry - I'll ask," said Neville as the class was dismissed and they had to part ways.

Harry spent the next lesson brooding, spending little time making notes or even trying to concentrate on Astronomy - they had theory lessons in class before Thursday's practical at night. He was scared that Ron didn't want to be his friend. It was one thing for Dudley to be trying to monopolise Ron, and to try to split them up, Dudley was very good at manipulating people, but it was another for Ron to not want to be with him. He missed his friend. He hadn't heard from him all summer, and even though that was Dobby's fault, he was still hurt that he hadn't had any interaction with Ron at all, with the exception of the train journey up to Hogwarts. He spent the lesson hoping that Ron would come to the library.

At lunch he picked at his food, still worried, and made frequent glances to the Gryffindor table to see if he could catch Ron's eye. He managed to catch Neville's, and mouthed "Ron" at him. Neville nodded and mouthed back "I'll ask him after lunch." Harry was happy that Neville hadn't forgotten to ask, but was still worried about the outcome.

Worrying so much, Harry didn't think his afternoon could get much worse, but he was completely wrong about that. After lunch was DADA with Lockhart. Harry thought he was a complete and utter arse after how Lockhart had treated him in Flourish and Blotts, and wanted nothing more than to hide at the back of the classroom in complete anonymity. That was not to be.

Lockhart accosted Harry on the way into the classroom, "Harry, my boy, how are you? It's wonderful for you to be in my class. We'll have to have a chat sometime about how you defeated Voldemort last year. I really want to hear all about it. I've an interview lined up with Witch Weekly and it will make an excellent addition - 'Gilderoy Lockhart: Professor to the Boy Who Lived!' I'll arrange one lunchtime." said Lockhart as Harry opened his mouth to argue. He couldn't think of anything worse! Could the man not leave him alone? Harry just wanted to be a normal teenager, with normal friends and a normal life, not some freak on display for all to see, interviewed in some stupid magazine, or worse, talked about in someone else's interview in some stupid magazine. He could feel himself getting annoyed, but managed to calm himself enough to say,

"Professor, interviews are not my thing. I just want to be left alone."

"Nonsense! We can even get you in with my interview. We can go as a pair. The editors will just love it." said Lockhart cheerily. Harry shook him head, looking at the floor. The rest of the class had been listening and were snickering, or in Malfoy's case, openly laughing and grinning. Harry could feel his ears burning with both embarrassment and anger. But Lockhart continued,

"We must include a piece on your cousin being at Hogwarts. If rumour is to be believed you were instrumental in Dudley becoming a wizard. That must have been such a wonderful moment. And the fact that you can support your cousin and guide him and help him in the wizarding world is amazing."

That was it. Harry snapped. He'd had a horrible two days without his friends. He was lonely, and worried that they wouldn't be his friends anymore, that there was no opportunity to be with them, worried that the friendship he'd built up with Ron last year would be snatched away from him. So he did a monumentally stupid thing.

Harry's eyes came up from examining the floor, to meet Lockhart's with a look of pure rage. Lockhart had hit a raw nerve. Dudley was stealing Harry's friends and all anyone saw was Dudley, Harry's cousin, Dudley, new to the wizarding world, Dudley, the boy who needed looking after. If you needed to see how much Dudley needed looking after, just look at Crabbe's nose! Then this self-centred, arrogant idiot wanted to use Harry's relationship with Dudley for his own self-advertisement. Harry just lost it.

"Shove it, Lockhart!" Harry yelled at him. "You haven't a bloody clue. You have no idea what it's like being me! You're an idiot! Leave me the hell alone!" and with that bodily shoved his professor so he fell back into the door frame behind him and Harry pushed passed and ran out of the room. Behind him, the whole class was sitting there, mouths open in complete shock.

Harry ran. He ran through he school, now deserted as classes had started, and he ran all the way up to the owlery. He hadn't spent much time with Hedwig in the last couple of days. During the holidays she'd been his constant companion when he was locked in his room, hooting gently in comfort and support, but since coming back to Hogwarts he hadn't been up to see her. He found her in one of the darker corners, her white feathers standing out in the gloom. She hooted at him softly with mild reproach.

"Sorry I've not been up here yet, girl." He said, gently stroking her feathers. She nibbled his ear briefly, showing she'd forgiven him. He gave her a couple of treats and just stroked her.

He didn't know how much time past, as he was lost in his thoughts. He felt, rather than heard someone behind him. He turned and looked straight in the very angry eyes of his head of house. Harry's blood ran cold.

"Go to my office, Potter. I will be there shortly." said Snape in his best menacing tones, barely keeping his temper. Harry was afraid. It seemed that the angry Snape of last year was back. Only this time as his head of house.

Snape had been teaching his N.E.W.T. Potions class, a class he always looked forward to. Only the best Potions students, those with interest and flair for the subject ever chose it. A note had been brought to his classroom explaining that Harry Potter had shouted at a professor, pushed him against a wall and run out of class. Snape had grown anger almost immediately. A few of the front row of his class looked like they wanted to back a bit further away. Snape told his class to get on with reading the next chapter in their textbook and he stalked out of the room.

He went to Lockhart's classroom, where the professor was still teaching, although when Snape put his head around the door, Lockhart was sitting on his desk regaling the class with some made up tale or another with himself as the main protagonist. He asked silkily if he could speak to Lockhart outside, if that wouldn't disturb his extremely important lesson. Lockhart didn't notice the intended jibe in that, with only served to irritate Snape further, and he came to speak with Severus outside the classroom. Snape ascertained that the note was true, and found out all the details. Lockhart was fawning over the boy, saying he was clearly just finding guiding Dudley too stressful and that Lockhart had perhaps rushed the idea of an interview. The idiot man!

After that, Snape spent the next twenty minutes tracking down Potter. To think he'd tried to be fair by the boy! It'd been hard for Snape. Professionally, as head of house he'd tried to be fair to him. Over the summer he'd seen things that as a teacher had rung alarm bells with him. He had enough experience with family situations to see when something was wrong. He'd tried, against all his personal feelings about the Boy Who Lived, the son of James Potter, to give him a chance. He'd even taken him to Diagon Alley. How had he been rewarded? The boy in a fit of pique worthy of his father had run off and done what he liked.

Again, on seeing how Potter had reacted to his cousin getting sorted, he'd requested a resort. That had backfired on him. He'd hoped the boy would be a Hufflepuff. But no, now he had to accept that the son of his childhood enemy was in his house. For the next six years. It really was unfair.

Yesterday morning, he'd read the boy the riot act. But he felt he'd been more than fair, supportive even, against his personal better judgment. It was fortunate for Potter, Snape thought, that Snape had taught for so many years and was a professional. Otherwise his personal feeling towards the boy would have clouded what he'd said to him. He'd tried hard to treat the boy as he should, and better than, after all his past indiscretions, he deserved. He'd given him a clean slate.

But how had this been repaid? In Potions he'd gone back to being with the Gryffindors, so soon after being told to make friends amongst his own house. And with Longbottom at that! So Snape had given him the silent treatment. He was hardly going to dock points off his own house, but it had been hard not bawl Potter out right there is class for being so, well, Gryffindor. And the boy hadn't even noticed!

Then, to cap it all, to be told that one of his house had assaulted a teacher! That was an offense worthy of his father! Like father, like son, he thought. Of course the son of James Potter could think he could do what he liked. Treating the staff like they were mud, yelling and shoving at them. That boy was going to learn the error of his ways. Painfully. He would not be sitting comfortably at dinner. That was for sure.

Harry had been waiting outside Snape's office door for around ten minutes when Snape came stalking down the dungeons corridor.

"Inside." was all he said, opening the door. Harry entered and stood in front of Snape's desk, making a thorough examination of the carpet at his feet. "Look at me." Harry didn't need telling twice and looked into Snape's eyes. Snape had taken his seat behind the desk and was staring at Harry over steepled fingers.

"Perhaps you can explain, Potter, why I was called out of my classroom to be told that one of my house had assaulted a member of the teaching faculty." said Snape darkly.

Harry shook his head, still examining his shoes, his eyes filling with unshed tears.

"That is not a response. Explain." Snape demanded, his voice becoming sharper. Harry thought about what he could say for a few moments. Snape could see him working out what to say and let him think through his response. Eventually Harry managed in a quiet voice,

"He doesn't know anything about me."

"That is not an explanation, Mr. Potter. I asked why you pushed a professor into the wall."

"I lost my temper."

"Why? Did something happen to you? Or did you think you, like your father, could do whatever you liked?"

"No!" said Harry. "And my father was not like that!" Snape was irritated with himself. He hadn't meant to say that last bit out loud. Although a bit of him was itching just to take the boy over his knee right that second and dole out a punishment in retribution for everything James had done to him, him knew he couldn't. He had to separate the two. Harry was not his father. He took a breath.

"Mr. Potter, then do please explain your actions." he said in a calmer tone.

"It's just that Lockhart's an idiot."

"That's Professor Lockhart," Snape retorted, "And whatever you may think of a professor, he is still that, a professor at Hogwarts, and you will treat him with the respect afforded to any member of staff here." said Snape sternly, his voice heating with anger towards the end. "Furthermore, you will remember my address to the house _just two days ago_. Slytherins will not bring the name of the house into disrepute. There are enough people to do that for us. Yet you decided you can go against the rules and do what you like. And all because you cannot control your temper. You will learn to curb your temper, Potter, or I will curb it for you!" Harry had rarely seen Snape look so angry. Harry briefly wondered if he was more cross that Harry's actions had been associated with Slytherin than that he had shoved Lockhart.

Snape opened his desk drawer, removed a ruler and placed it on the desk. Harry forgot to breathe.

"I believe you are aware of how I will deal with this behaviour. Barely twenty four hours ago I explained the rules and their consequences. Do you remember me telling you that there would be no fighting, or actions like it?" Harry swallowed and nodded. "A verbal answer."

"Yes, Sir."

"And do you remember me telling you to treat others with respect?"

Again Harry nodded, and said "Yes, Sir." Harry hadn't taken his eyes off the ruler. Snape picked up the ruler. It looked a lot more foreboding in his hand, thought Harry.

"Do you have anything to say in your defence? Any plea for leniency?" Harry shrugged. What was the point? He couldn't deny he'd pushed Lockhart. The man had had it coming, and Harry wasn't sorry he'd done it. He just wished there wasn't this consequence.

" Mr. Potter, I am aware that you are finding settling in to Hogwarts this year very trying." and it's not just you, thought Snape to himself. "As a result, I am inclined against my better judgment to offer you a choice. There is no excusing your actions, and as such you will be punished. Your punishment will be twenty swats. However," said Snape, returning the ruler to the drawer, "in deference to the fact that you are having a hard time adjusting to everything, I can see my way to not using a ruler." Harry's stomach was in his mouth. "The choice part for you is if you give Professor Lockhart a public apology I will see my way to reducing your sentence to ten. The choice is yours." Snape wondered if his uncharacteristic leniency was due in part to his comparison of the boy with his father. He pushed that thought out of his mind and continued to be the stern head of house.

Harry was torn. Twenty would really hurt. Merlin, ten would really hurt. But he believed in what he had said to Lockhart, and he was not sorry he'd done it. He just couldn't bring himself to apologise. In a very nervous voice, Harry said,

"Twenty." Snape's eyes widened in shock. He'd clearly been expecting Harry to opt for the apology and reduction of swats. He recovered quickly enough though. He stood, walked around to Harry's side of his desk, moved the armless chair that was in front of it to the middle of the room and sat down on it.

"Bend over me knee." said Snape, sternly but without malice. Harry lowered himself over Snape's knee, then grabbed Snape's trouser leg for something to hold and willed himself not to cry like a baby, but this really was going to hurt. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

The first swat fell hard, much harder than in summer, and Harry nearly bit his own tongue. Twenty of these? He wouldn't be able to sit all evening! Harry was in tears by the third swat, and by the ninth he was crying out in pain. The fire Snape had lit in his backside was ferocious. The tenth swat landed across a previous one and the pain in Harry's backside rose to new heights.

"Please, Sir, stop. I'll apologise." Harry wailed.

In response, Snape tipped Harry forward by lifting his right knee and lowering his left and landed two very solid swats to Harry's sit spots in quick succession. Harry would certainly smart sitting down for the next while, thought Snape. Then he stopped.

He put his hand on Harry's back and started to rub circles. It took a moment or two for Harry to register that the hand that had just dealt out pain and retribution to his backside was more carefully comforting him while he stopped crying like there was no tomorrow. Harry's tears subsided and Snape helped Harry up, then passed him a handkerchief to dry his eyes and blow his nose. He knew there were underlying issues and he felt for the boy, but his behaviour was just unacceptable.

"I am glad you have come to your senses. It is not a very Slytherin thing to do to prolong punishment. Some of your Gryffindor traits leave a lot to be desired." said Snape with a slight twitch of his lips. "I will be speaking to Professor Lockhart tomorrow at dinner. If you have not apologised to him by then we will be having a repeat of this conversation. And it will be a much longer conversation." Harry flushed at the prospect. "I want to remind you of something else I said yesterday. You are not alone. Your true friends will stand by you. Not in pushing teacher perhaps, but in the situation with your cousin. Now, if I was reading the situation correctly at lunchtime today, you are going to meet your friends in the library after class today. If that is the case, do not let me detain you, Mr. Potter." said Snape in dismissal. As Harry reached the door Snape added, "It is only the second day of term, Mr. Potter. Students usually wait a little longer before making me take them over my knee. For your own sake, behave." Harry flushed and left the office, closing the door behind him.

Harry went straight up to his dorm. There were only twenty minutes left of afternoon class and he wanted to wash his face before anyone saw the state he was in.

Harry hurried out of the Slytherin common room just before everyone arrived after the day's classes. He didn't want to see the looks or hear the comments about his actions in DADA. He took a lesser travelled route to the library and chose a desk far enough from Madame Pince's desk that they would be able to talk without censure. He was about to sit down but the chair looked rather solid. He could feel his backside radiating heat.

On seeing Hermione and Neville enter the room Harry's heart soared, for a moment forgetting pain in his bum. Hermione gave him a big hug and he just didn't want to let go. If he wasn't careful he'd cry. He'd missed this so much his heart ached.

"I've missed you. I know I've seen you on the train and in class this morning, but it's not the same." said Hermione.

"Me too." said Harry.

"We can sit here until dinner and just catch up," said Hermione. "Get your books out like we're doing work and then we can just talk for a bit." Harry made to sit down, got halfway down and then his backside sent him a reminder of his chat with Snape. Neville saw.

"Harry, what's up?" Harry had to think fast. The truth right now wasn't an option.

"Um. I fell down the stairs of the dorm - they're steeper than Gryffindor's. I landed on my, erm..." he trailed off, and the look of embarrassment he gave them both wasn't quite fake.

"Oh, I learnt about a cushioning charm, last year." said Hermione and pointed her wand to Harry's chair. Harry sat gingerly and exhaled with relief as he felt only mild discomfort.

"Thanks, you're going to have to teach me that sometime soon." said Harry fervently.

Harry had missed his friends, and Gryffindor tower. There'd been happy times playing exploding snap in the common room, watching the twins plotting their pranks and annoying Percy. He'd even occasionally enjoyed doing his homework. He was happy just to talk to Hermione and Neville. Hermione asked what the Slytherin common room and dorms were like and asked if he'd made any friends. Neville had asked if Malfoy was still the condescending git he always was and together they passed a happy hour. It felt by the end that they'd never been apart. The conversation eventually dwindled. There was an awkward pause and Harry plucked up the courage to ask,

"Is Ron busy?"

"Um." said Hermione, aware of how upsetting Harry would find her answer. "Your cousin asked him to show him how to play quidditch." Harry made a face. Of course he did, Harry thought bitterly.

"He's not been that bad, you know," said Hermione, filling up the silence. "He's tried to look out for Ron. I think he's seen that Ron's missed you and is trying to fill the void." That's so not it, thought Harry, peeved that Dudley actions could be seen that way by such an intelligent person.

"Hermione, I didn't talk much about my relatives last year, but you know that they're not nice people. Dudley isn't who you think. Please try to see that. Please, try to talk to Ron. Get him to come tomorrow." There was a tacit implication in that sentence that meeting up in the library would become a regular thing. Hermione nodded, but she didn't look convinced.

"I'll tell him to come, Harry, but I think you could be overreacting about Dudley." Harry sadly shook his head. He knew he wasn't. He wanted to angry with Hermione for not believing him, but couldn't. His anger was overpowered by how upset he was at the prospect of losing Ron's friendship to Dudley's need to put Harry down. They collected up their things as Madame Pince shooed them out of the library for dinner.

Harry ate dinner at Slytherin table receiving looks of admonishment from his house for his outburst in DADA. They also smirked at his discomfort sitting down. He squirmed throughout dinner trying to find the least painful way to sit, having no cushioning charm. He spent the evening doing his homework, and copying Theo's notes from DADA, then went to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Dudley

For the remainder of the week Harry kept to himself in class, studied, did his homework, and looked forward all day to the best part of each day, the hour he got to spend in the library with his friends. Harry had begrudgingly apologised to Lockhart at the beginning of DADA the next day and Lockhart had dismissed his apology before Harry had even completed it, saying that Harry was clearly under a lot of pressure, but at some point they really should have a chat about an interview for Witch Weekly.

The second time Harry and his friends all met in the library, Fred and George came with Hermione and Neville. Madame Pince looked like she might have a heart attack at the concept of the twins coming to the library. Whether that was because she thought the twins were in there to study or whether she thought they were there to cause mischief, Harry never could decide. But she certainly kept a closer eye on them now the twins were around.

The twins were their usual selves. They noticed Harry wasn't looking too happy with life and did their best to cheer him up, telling him how they'd managed to get the shower heads in the Hufflepuff dorms to spray glitter rather than water.

"How on earth did you manage to get into their common room, never mind their dorms?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Not a secret we're sharing, but suffice to say, there's very few places we can't get into." George replied with a wink.

"Speaking of which, we're going to go plan a kitchen raid." said Fred. "This year we've decided to corrupt the first years early, we're taking a few with us this evening."

"We'll have to go check that they look like they won't wet themselves at the first hint of Filch!" said George, and with that they ran off back to Gryffindor.

Harry didn't get to see Ron for the rest of the week unless it was in Potions. It wasn't until Saturday morning after breakfast that they crossed paths, and only then, Harry thought, because Ron was on his own and not with Dudley. Harry wondered if Dudley had been keeping Ron away from him deliberately, or whether he was keeping Ron from being friends with everyone but himself. Harry mentally shook himself, surely Dudley wasn't that good - Ron had his own free will, he could have sought out Harry if he wanted. A small voice in Harry's head said he could have knocked on the door of Gryffindor common room any time he wanted to too, but guilt silenced that voice rather quickly.

Harry had gone outside to fly around on his broom for a bit of fresh air and freedom there was something about flying that made his cares go away. When he got to the field Ron was already there. Harry smiled and quickly pushed off from the ground towards his friend. When Harry got closer, he realised Ron looked upset about something. Hoping that it wasn't related to him he asked, "What's up?"

"Hi, Harry, good to see you too!"

"Sorry, it really is good to see you as well. You look not best pleased, what's up?"

"It's the twins. They do whatever the hell they want without thinking. They don't get it, they're jerks!" said Ron with bite.

"What did they do?" asked Harry. Harry knew Ron felt that the twins often had fun at his expense - not like with Percy - more inadvertently. Ron was smart enough to know when he was the subject of one of their jokes and took it to heart, but the twins never meant him harm, they were just having fun.

"They were eating a bag of sweets, being all like they were the best sweets in the world," Ron explained. "You know how your cousin is about food, (Harry tried to keep a straight face - that from Ron!) well, they offered him one, which he ate and his tongue swelled up to like giant proportions. He had to be taken to Madame Pomfrey!

Harry laughed, the first genuine laugh in a long time."Oh, I wish I'd been there!" he said, wiping tears out of his eye with one hand. "What had Dudley done to annoy them?"

"Fred said afterwards it was in retaliation for them getting caught when they raided the kitchens the other night. They'd taken Dudley with them, and he was on look out. The twins and the first years were on the way back when they heard Filch. Dudley got back to the tower, but the others were caught. They got detention yesterday evening. They had to scrub the floor in the entrance hall. George said that they'd given Dudley ton-tongue toffee. He's till with Pomfrey now."

Harry laughed even harder.

"Harry, it's not funny." said Ron.

"Not that the twins got detention no, but the payback was."

"How is that funny? He's only been a wizard for a couple of months, he doesn't know anyone or anything about the wizarding world! He's a nice enough person to be round."

Harry laughed even harder. "Ron, stop! I'm going to fall off at his rate," Harry managed, in between gasping for breath from laughing so hard.

"You're just jealous!"

Harry's laughter died in his throat as he looked at Ron. Oh god! He's serious. Harry suddenly felt like throwing up. It was happening again... Dudley taking away everything.

"But Ron, that's not Dudley. Dudley is a nasty, vicious bully. He's using you." That proved the wrong thing to say.

"He's not. You're just jealous. He said you'd say that about him. But he's being nice. We played a great prank on Filch the first evening. He gave me credit, even though I'd only done a bit of it. In front if everyone! He's cool."

Harry didn't have a response. He wanted to shake his friend for being so naive as to fall for Dudley's tricks. But he supposed with so many older brothers, and having The Boy Who Lived as your best friend, there were very few instances Ron was the centre of attention.

Harry suddenly didn't want to be out flying any more. He just wanted to get away and hide in a Dudley-free corner. After a few more awkward moments he made an excuse about being too cold. He went to the owlery to be in the peace and quiet with Hedwig until lunch, then went to the common room and finished his homework on his own in a corner.

When Harry went to dinner next day, Dudley was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ron. Harry caught Ron's eye and when Ron looked away Harry's heart dropped into his shoes. He feared their friendship had been irrevocably damaged by their conversation this morning. He hoped he could prove to Ron that Dudley was a horrible person, but now that Ron was ignoring him it was going to be a lot harder.

With a heavy heart and a lot on his mind, Harry went to the common room. Theo asked him for a game of chess, but Harry was so abysmal at chess and his mind was just not on the game, that even the three games they had didn't last until bedtime. Harry went to bed early, not wanting to share his unhappiness with the others.

Next day, Sunday, Harry met up with the twins on the way out of the great hall after breakfast.

"Merlin, but your cousin's a right git," said George.

"I heard," said Harry, "Ron told me about the food raid."

"Did he tell you how we got him back though?" asked Fred.

"Yes, he did, but he's taken Dudley's side. He thinks you're bullying Dudley."

"We should have words with our little bro, George," said Fred.

"Definitely." said George. "Speaking of having words, I'm sorry that we ever thought Dudley was anything but a cheating, cowardly weasel. If it wasn't for Dudley we'd have got away with it. He heard Mrs. Norris coming and instead of coming back to warn us, he just scarpered. He deliberating ran away! We got caught by Filch, who dragged us to Snape who was on patrol that night. He assigned us back to Filch for detention and told us that we should be glad we weren't in Slytherin else we wouldn't have got away so lightly. Whatever that means."

Harry flushed and didn't quite meet George's eye. He knew exactly what Snape had meant by that sentence.

"It's OK," said Harry, "Dudley's good at getting away with things, and convincing people he's nice. He's been doing it for as long as I can remember. So, is ton-tongue toffee good enough payback or were you planning something bigger?" Asked Harry in the hope that changing the subject would make George less curious about Snape's means of discipline.

"What do you normally do?" asked Fred. Harry became awkward again. The honest answer was nothing. Payback was impossible as Harry just got blamed for everything and given extra chores.

Fred noticed Harry become pensive and more withdrawn. "Harry?"

In a rare moment of honesty, due in part to feeling separated from his friends, he confided just a little.

"I don't. I can't. Vernon and Petunia always take his side. If he takes any of the few things that could be called mine, they let him keep them, if he starts a fight with me, I get blamed and sent to my cu... room. Whatever he wants, he always gets. That's how it's always been. And now he wants Ron's friendship." Harry shared bitterly.

The twins' faces fell. they didn't have a clue it was that bad. "Harry, you're like our little brother too. We'll kick Ron's arse until he's friends with you and has seen Dudley for the git that he is." said Fred.

"We're in danger of this getting mushy," said George. "We've got to get to quidditch tryouts now else Oliver will kill us. Stay strong, Harry. See you around." with that, Fred clapped him on the shoulder and they ran off in the direction of the quidditch pitch.

Harry decided to follow at a distance and go flying. Not on the quidditch pitch, but where he could watch their practice from afar. He enjoyed watching the team tryout. Their new seeker wasn't up to much Harry thought critically. For the rest of the morning Harry watched, and could pretend for a little while that his life wasn't a complete mess.

When Harry got back to common room, there was a notice pinned on board announcing quidditch tryouts next Saturday. Malfoy was bragging about his new broom being the best and that he was sure to be on the team, as he'd practised for years at his manor. He said it was only because Harry was the Boy Who Lived that was why he had been allowed to be the youngest seeker for a century and allowed on the team early.

Harry was grateful when Flint said "Well, that and perhaps talent," with tones that suggested Draco should back off. Malfoy stalked off muttering about Malfoys not cheating.

At study group that evening Harry talked to Theo about quidditch. Millicent and Pansy joined in the conversation. They eventually got on to Malfoy's outburst earlier. Harry discovered from Pansy that Malfoy had got the Nimbus 2001. Theo said that it wouldn't matter what broom Malfoy had, he'd still suck at quidditch. Harry began to feel that there had been a turning point in the feeling of the Slytherin common room, that he was slowly being accepted. They then spend some time practising a freezing charm they'd learnt on Friday in Charms before they got sent to bed by a prefect.

* * *

Over the coming weeks, Harry got into a pattern. After classes, which generally speaking went well, Harry would go to the library before dinner. He could talk with his friends for a while and then they would get some homework done. There appeared to be a tacit agreement between Madame Pince and Harry and his friends that if they were in the furthest corner, and didn't disturb anyone, they could talk quietly for a while before doing their homework. Some days when they'd been talking for a while Madame Pince would clear her throat meaningfully, and they'd get on with some work. They really didn't want to get thrown out of the library, as it was one of the few places that students from different houses could meet together. Hermione and Neville would always be there, and the twins were there maybe two days a week. Other days the twins had quidditch practice, or they were planning their next prank.

Early on, Harry tried to convince Hermione that Dudley was the nasty, vindictive, conniving weasel that he was, but she just didn't see it. Harry had got rather angry with her, and the atmosphere round table grew awkward. The situation had been rescued by the twins arriving telling them all about a Ravenclaw who'd engorged her own leg so much in Charms that she'd fallen over and couldn't get up without help. They'd all forced a laugh and the twins had regaled them all with a few more stories until the mood had lightened. After that, Harry was careful not to mention his cousin when they were in the library, in just the same way that Hermione and Neville didn't mention Ron.

If Harry were honest, he would admit that being in Slytherin got him his homework done on time and it was of better quality. Hermione helped him when they were in the library and by the time he got to study group in the Slytherin common room, he'd already made a decent start on his work. He was pleasantly surprised the day he got to help Pansy with her Transfiguration essay as he'd already finished his the day before. Neville's Potion's grades improved a little, as working with Harry who was now in Slytherin meant Snape didn't actively try to dock points from Neville. Snape didn't hover quite so much waiting to pounce on his prey at every opportunity.

Harry had been unsure how appreciated it would be that he was doing his homework with his Gryffindor friends before going to study groups in the common room, but Harry decided that as Madame Pince knew what they were doing in the library, then surely she would have talked to Snape. Harry was thankful that he'd found a way to be with his friends even for just a short amount of time that wasn't frowned on.

But school wasn't all about academia, and Harry was getting increasingly withdrawn. For that one hour of the day in the library when they could talk he was his usual self, but otherwise he rarely spoke. He answered questions in class and spoke to the people in his study group about work, but otherwise he found it difficult to truly get on with the other members of Slytherin. There was no animosity - if he asked to borrow a quill or parchment the conversation was perfectly normal - it was just that he didn't have things in common with them. Theo was the closest, but some of the things he said were just a bit too stereotypical pure-blood. Most of the people he interacted with on a daily basis also came from families with money, who were highbrow wizards down to their fingernails, and he just feel he didn't quite fit in.

* * *

There were a few instances of Malfoy being, well, Malfoy, like with the tryouts list, but even Malfoy had come to accept his presence in Slytherin. But none of this made Harry happy. Every day at meal times he was forced to watch as Dudley would lord it over his friends. Apart from the twins, the rest of Gryffindor were quite accepting of him - he'd wormed his way in.

During a Herbology class in the second week of term, Harry was asked to deliver a message to a student in another class by Professor Sprout. He enjoyed Herbology and he got to work with the Ravenclaws, but he jumped at the chance to skip class to be an errand boy.

Harry was on a quiet corridor on his way back from delivering the message when he ran into Dudley, presumable skipping one of his classes, something he did regularly at his old school. They were alone. No witnesses, no eyes, no ears.

"Well, well, it's the freak. Without an entourage. Where are your friends, Potter? Got any? What happened to them? Oh, wait, I know, they're my friends now. Who would want to be friends with you?" said Dudley nastily, checking first that there truly was no-one around.

"Did you think that the wizarding world would give you friends, a family, a home? You don't deserve those things, you're just a freak. I'll always be here to make sure you're kept in your place. When will you learn, Potter? You're a freak. And not because you're a wizard. I quite like being one actually. It's just you. You are alone. You're parents abandoned you and no-one in the wizarding world wanted you. I know about you now. People talk. I know all about the war, and your parents dying, about you being abandoned on Mum and Dad's doorstep. You... are... just... a... fre... "

Harry's wand came out before he knew what he was doing. There was no thought, just inarticulate rage and a sense of loss. "NO!" he screamed, and he lunged for Dudley. He didn't think about doing magic, he just wanted to punch his lights out, to pummel him into the floor until the boy stopped talking.

His punch would have connected except that he found his wrist held in a vice-like grip mid-lunge.

"Mr. Potter..." said a silky voice behind him. Dudley's face had taken on a pale tinge and Harry saw him swallow, his Adam's apple going up and down. How much had Snape heard? Or had he just come round the corner behind him as he tried to flatten his cousin?

"Go wait for me in my office." said Snape staring at Harry, daring him to disobey. When he released Harry's wrist, Harry, seething, walked away towards the Slytherin dungeons.

Ten minutes went by as Harry waited for Snape, standing in front of Snape's desk. He had a dreadful feeling he'd be bent over it as soon has his head of house arrived. He tried to calm himself down, but he was too angry and upset. Dudley was right. He had no-one and he was alone. Those few snatched moments in the library weren't enough. They could share stories and anecdotes of the day, but they didn't have the time to properly be friends anymore. Harry knew that in his whole life he had had two real friends and now, once again, he had none. He knew what having no friends was like. He'd had enough practice. He had to keep his head down and survive.

The door opened and shut quietly behind him. Professor Snape came and sat behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His onyx eyes met Harry's emerald ones. Harry dropped his gaze and studied his shoes, unable to bear Snape staring at him, it was like the man could see straight into his soul. Snape looked at Harry for an uncomfortably long time before speaking.

"Explain."

Harry didn't know what to say. How did he explain to the professor that disliked him for just being him that being him was the problem. That, far from being the golden boy, the Boy Who Lived, he was alone, friendless and bullied. Snape would never understand. He opened his mouth to try to explain, but the words died in his throat. His shoes were getting a lot of his attention.

"Mr. Potter. We are going to have a conversation. A two way conversation. I cannot help you if you do not explain what is going on. You cannot continue in this manner. You cannot scream at and shove members of staff. You cannot fight with students on corridors."

"I did not..." Snape raised an eyebrow. "If I had not stopped your fist, it would have connected with your cousin's face, yes?" Harry's indignancy died. He looked at his shoes again.

"Your cousin is at Hogwarts. He is not going away. He is, admittedly from what I have seen, a spoilt brat with an attitude problem. But you have to learn to deal with him. You are a Slytherin. Act like one."

"He... he..." Harry stopped. Snape realised Harry wanted to talk but the words wouldn't come out. Slytherins were usually easier to deal with, he thought. Appeal to the their sense of pride, make them indignant and they would always tell him what was the matter. But Harry seemed lost. Where was the cheeky disrespectful boy of last year? Admittedly, Snape was in some ways happy Harry was different. More like Lily than James this year, less arrogant, and those eyes, when they weren't glued to the floor, so much like Lily's. But something in Harry had broken, and the boy needed to talk before it ate him from the inside. And as much as Snape hated to be the person that Harry, son of his childhood nemesis, opened up to, the boy was in his house, and Snape cared a great deal about his Slytherins. He was a good head of house for a reason.

"Take your time, Potter." Snape watched harry and waited. Reading Harry's face was easy. He would need lessons in being a Slytherin with such an open face like that. Snape could see the emotions washing over the boy's face.

Harry was thinking. To speak? To not speak? Would talking to Snape help? Or would be his response be full of derision and condescension? Harry had been angry when he'd tried to punch his cousin, but that was because Dudley had hit a nerve and said hurtful things that Harry feared were true. Harry swallowed, his decision made.

"He said I was alone." said Harry, haltingly. "That I am a freak. That he has taken my friends. He did that when we were in primary school and because I did accidental magic it was easy for him to tell people I was a freak and they'd believe him. Vernon and Petunia never did anything to stop him. He just did what he wanted to me." Harry looked at his shoes again. He continued to talk, but to his shoes. It was easier than talking to those eyes.

"I've always been alone. Dudley made sure of that. Any friends I had were 'encouraged' to go find another person to be friends with. At school, learning-wise, Vernon and Petunia always praised his achievements even though I had done the same things. But I had to get lower grades than Dudley otherwise my life wasn't worth living. At home, magic was freaky. They only call me 'boy' or 'freak'. Then I came to Hogwarts. My name might be famous here and I might be The Boy Who Lived, but I can finally be me."

Harry trailed off. He had managed to say all that without particularly taking a breath, in case once he paused he never continued again. Then quietly he added, "And now I'm Dudley's punch bag again."

Snape waited to see if there was more. It seemed there was more behind those words than would ever be said out loud. Snape understood. Neglect was, in some ways, worse than abuse. So many things the boy had not said. They would be simple, everyday things, perhaps like Dudley being bought a treat meaning Dudley was being praised for being a normal boy and taken for a reward while Harry was made to watch and given nothing. Inaction was harder to catalogue than a list of poor actions.

Snape thought about what to say. The boy was miserable, dejected and felt alone.

"No-one, Mr. Potter, can make you feel inferior without your consent."

"Sir?" said Harry.

"A muggle, Eleanor Roosevelt said that. You let Dudley treat you like a house elf and in doing so you become a house elf. You should remember, Potter, that here your cousin is not supported by Vernon and Petunia. Here there are rules, and you are all held to them. All students are equal. I explained that on your first night in Slytherin. If you let him act that way, you have lost before you have started. I repeat, you are a Slytherin, act like one."

"Sit down, Mr. Potter. Have some tea, you are in no state to return to class, and my marking can wait." Snape tapped his wand on the desk and a house elf appeared. "Bring a tray of tea for two please, Missy."

" Yes, Professor Snape, sir." Missy disappeared with a pop. Harry examined his own shoes again while waiting for the elf to return. He couldn't bring himself to look at his head of house again. Missy popped back with tea and Harry was grateful for the distraction. He didn't realise how thirsty he was until he took a sip from the cup Snape handed him.

"Thank you, sir." Harry's gratitude was for more than the tea, but he couldn't articulate it. He hoped Snape realised. He got a nod of understanding in return, thankfully Snape had known what he meant. The next ten minutes until the end of the lesson were spent with Harry slowly nibbling a biscuit and drinking his tea. It was awkward, but bearably so. He knew Snape knew he was embarrassed and thankfully his head of house didn't dig any further. As the bell sounded, Snape rose, and Harry returned his cup to the tray.

"Thank you, sir."

"Do not thank me just yet Mr. Potter. You have detention to serve this evening for your behaviour in the corridor. Fighting is not acceptable."

"Will I serve it with Dudley?" Harry asked in near panic.

" Mr. Dursley has been assigned detention with Mr. Filch." Harry exhaled the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Yes, sir." Snape gestured to the door. Harry walked out and Snape followed, closing the door behind him.

"7 pm Mr. Potter, do not be late. With that, the potions master swept away down the corridor.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Quidditch Tryouts

On Saturday, Harry ate breakfast excitedly. Today was the day of quidditch tryouts. He hadn't tried out last year, and he was nervous, if confident. He wanted to prove he was worthy of a place of the team. He made his way down to the quidditch pitch with the other quidditch team hopefuls together with the current team. The team needed to fill positions for a chaser and a beater, but any position was available if you were good enough. There was only one other person trying out for seeker. The current seeker, Terence Higgs, was in his last year at Hogwarts and was very experienced. A new person would have to be good to take his place from him. Harry noticed that Blaise Zabini and Draco were both trying for the chaser position. The other hopefuls were older and harry didn't recognise them. There were six for chaser, four for beater and two for keeper.

Harry looked over towards the spectator stands. A number of members of Slytherin had come to watch. No-one minded - it made it a bit more realistic playing in front of an audience. Harry glanced at the staff area. Professor Snape was looking on with what might pass as interest. Probably working out whether he should gloat or not in front of Professor McGonagall thought harry with a snigger. Harry missed Professor McGonagall as his head of house. She remained kind towards him, if her usual strict self during class, but Harry felt there was just a bit of pity there, and he found it difficult to deal with. Dudley was not his fault. Being in Slytherin was not his fault. But she couldn't fix it and neither could he. So here he was, trying out for Slytherin instead of playing for Gryffindor. If harry didn't have quidditch he wasn't sure if he'd cope. It was his escape. Hermione studied, Neville had his plants, the twins played jokes. Harry played quidditch. It had only been a year since he'd learnt about the game's existence, but it could have been a lifetime ago. He had to get on the team. He needed this.

Flint was the captain. He ordered everyone up on their brooms and round the pitch ten times. A few of the students had school brooms - they weren't going to do well. Malfoy had the new Nimbus 2001 but even with that, Harry was still a quarter lap faster by the time they'd done ten. Malfoy glowered at him as they waited for the last couple of stragglers. While they were warming up the current team had set themselves up around the rest of the pitch.

"Right." said Flint. "Chasers first. Your job is to intercept the thrown quaffles and to score. Twenty quaffles each, no bludgers first round. Chasers up, everyone else to the side." He blew his whistle. The six chasers formed a line and ran the gauntlet of current players who were to pass the quaffle to each other in front of the hoops. The potential chaser had to intercept and hit the quaffle through the hoops, then join the back of the line of chasers ready for their next turn.

For their first five turns there was no keeper. After that, Miles Bletchley, the current keeper guarded the hoops. Without bludgers, Harry assumed the chasers would have an easy job, but the Slytherin team were good - feinting, passing to each other carefully, making the chasers work for the quaffle. Harry watched Malfoy with interest. He really wasn't very good. He only scored three of the first five and then only one in three of the rest. The other Slytherins trying out were about the same. Harry assumed that at this rate the current chasers would remain and perhaps the dark haired boy whose name he didn't know might be the new third chaser.

When the bludgers were brought out it was carnage. One of the hopefuls was carted off to the infirmary on her first turn with them - Harry found out later she'd suffered a mild concussion with a bludger to the head. Blaise had panicked just when had should've intercepted the quaffle and hit the quaffle at full strength straight over the top of the middle hoop. Flint just sent him to fetch it and Blaise looked mortified. With the bludgers and the way the Slytherin team was passing, the dark haired boy had done best scoring nine out of his twenty shots. Malfoy was worst - although better than a concussion - with only three of his strikes on target.

The chasers were sent down to the stands and the beaters were called up. Flint proceeded to explain what he wanted to see. The beaters had two jobs, to keep the bludgers away from their own team and to hit them towards the opposition. Flint wanted to test both these qualities separately, then see them together. First, the current Slytherin team was set to flying around the pitch. Although there are normally two bludgers in a game, Flint released eight bludgers as he explained there were four beaters trying out.

The first exercise was easier said than done. The hopefuls had to keep the beaters away from the other players. The team had to fly up and down the pitch and the beaters had to keep the bludgers away from them. The bludgers, being charmed, could recognise when players flew in a straight line and seemed to know where to aim for. There were a number of close calls, and the current team had to defend themselves with their bats more than once as those trying out failed to keep them safe.

Flint did this exercise for around half an hour until he was satisfied he'd seen enough. After that, seven of the bludgers were recalled. Now, one at a time, each beater had to aim the remaining bludger at a specific player. The Slytherin team were flying around the pitch. The beater had to get to the bludger and as soon as they reached it, a player would shout out, and that was who they had to hit it to.

As Harry watched, it seemed to him that Lycian Bole, a fifth year, was emerging as the better player. Each of the four Slytherins got three rounds of this exercise, having to aim at ten players each round. Harry thought they were looking very tired as they were sent back to the stands at the end, they'd done a lot of bludger chasing.

The keeper tryouts were quick. From various positions on the pitch, either stationary or while moving, the current chasers aimed for the hoops. The keeper had to stop the quaffle. Of thirty attempts the quaffle was stopped seventeen times. Harry felt it wasn't as good as the current keeper from what he could remember from the Gryffindor Slytherin match last year, so probably the current keeper would retain his position.

With mounting trepidation, Harry realised there was only one position left to try out - seeker. At Flint's signal, Harry flew from the stands with the other hopeful to where Flint and Terence were. Harry glanced over to the stands and noticed that Snape was paying more attention than for the other tryouts. Mind you, so was the rest of the house that were watching. Harry getting on the team would remove their current seeker. A bit of controversy always piqued people's interest.

The first exercise would involve a timed set flight around the pitch. After that, they'd have to catch the snitch. To mark out the course, Flint send players to various places around the pitch. Terence would fly first so they could see the course and to set a time to beat. Flint looked over at Terence, who imperceptibly nodded to signal his readiness. Flint blew his whistle. Terence set off as fast as he could down the length of the pitch, turning straight down when he reached the centre hoop at the far end and heading straight to the ground at break-neck speed. He slowed at the last moment and turned, flying parallel to the ground before turning sharply up and to his right. He banked right heading for all three hoops at the other end, weaving in and out and them then flying up, back and flipping over to head back to the finish at the centre of the pitch. Flint stopped his timer and nodded in satisfaction at Terence. It was a good run that would take some beating.

Up first was the other hopeful. He looked quite frankly terrified as Flint blew his whistle. He was only in third year, Harry thought, and he just wasn't as good. Slower on the straights, braking and turning early. His turns were too wide and too slow. By the time he had finished he was over twenty seconds slower than Terence. Flint nodded to him and thanked him (kindly, Harry thought) and sent him to the stands.

"Are you ready, Mr. Potter?" flint asked.

Harry swallowed. He thought he might be sick. He had just this one chance. The next two minutes would determine whether he had the freedom of his broom and the joy of quidditch or whether he was trapped with nowhere to go. Harry pushed down the rising fear and nodded. The whistle blew.

He accelerated down the pitch as if Dudley was behind him Harry Hunting. His turn at the far end was nearly on the spot. Harry always turned fast, and had developed the habit of spotting with his head first before moving his broom and body. He spotted the floor, focused and dived down. The wind through his hair felt amazing, so freeing. No, don't think of that now, concentrate, he thought, cross with himself for getting distracted.

Faster and down he flew. At the bottom he was still dropping like a stone. If he'd been paying any attention to the stands he would have seen there was a collective intake of breath. Harry twisted and reverse corkscrewed to save himself from pancaking on the grass. He was halfway back down the pitch before the crowd breathed again. He climbed from the floor, banked and headed to the hoops. He kept his weave tight, and easily back flipped over to head for the centre where Higgs and Flint were. Flint stopped the clock. Terence just looked impressed. He nodded respectfully at Harry.

"Nicely done." said Higgs.

"So." said Flint. "Catching the snitch. Let's play a game." He split the current team up and divided the best of the hopefuls between the teams. Flint himself wasn't playing, but the rest of the team was. Harry was seeker against Terence. Neither Malfoy nor Blaise hadn't been invited to play.

Harry felt natural up high, searching for a glint of the snitch. He didn't pay much attention to the rest of the game, just the bludgers, Terence and the hunt for the snitch. They'd been going for around forty five minutes when Harry spotted it, right next to the stands, specifically the one with Snape in it. Terence hadn't seen it. Keeping an eye on the snitch, Harry swooped and zigzagged looking to all intents and purposes like he was just searching for the snitch. Terence was keeping an eye on him just as much he was watching Terence. Terence started to get suspicious and flew towards Harry. He was currently nearer the snitch than Harry. If he turned and saw it harry would lose.

Just a big further, Harry thought. Harry feinted to the ground, and Terence started to follow, thinking that Harry had seen the snitch. That was Harry's cue. He spun, flew past Terence and towards the snitch. The snitch knew it was being chased. Snitch, Harry and Terence flew round the edge of the pitch near the stands, so close the spectators could have reached out and touched them. The snitch dived for the floor, Harry in hot pursuit. Terence was heavier than Harry and gained on him on the down. Flying side by side they both reached for the snitch. The ground raced up to meet them, Harry's hand closing on the snitch with just enough time for both him and Terence to turn out safely before hitting the deck. Arm raised above his head, holding the snitch in triumph, Harry soared towards the centre of the pitch, his heart soaring even higher.

Flint blew his whistle and all the players in the game and the remaining candidates from the stands flew to him.

"The team will be posted after dinner this evening." he said. The crowd of spectators dispersed and Harry went to shower, change and then the great hall for lunch. He was, for the first time since returning to Hogwarts happy. He was confident of finding his name on the list.

When they returned to the common room from dinner that evening the list was up. Harry couldn't contain his joy on seeing his name on it. He was eternally grateful that Terence Higgs had been moved to chaser rather than being removed from the team though. At least his happiness wasn't at someone else's expense.

The team consisted of Flint, captain, who played chaser along with Terence and Adrian Pucey, Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole as beaters, both of whom were fifth years, Miles Bletchley remained the keeper and Harry was seeker. Draco was not on the list. The last Harry saw of him for the evening was when he stalked up to the dorms followed by his shadows, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry hoped that the lack of open hostility between them hadn't been affected by Malfoy not getting on the team.

Monday evening, two days later, was the first quidditch practice. When the team assembled on the pitch Harry was shocked to see Malfoy there, holding his broom as if ready to play. Flint arrived after Harry, bringing with him Lucian, Crabbe, Goyle, Graham Montague, a third year, and Cassius Warrington, a fourth year.

Harry then noticed that Flint and the others with him were holding a large number of Nimbus 2001s. Flint handed the new brooms to all the members of the team, including Harry.

"It has been decided that we need reserves in case any team member is injured. The reserves will practise with the team, and before each match, the team for that match will announced. This means that sometimes a reserve may play in a game." Flint announced this with distaste, then continued, "By kind donation of Lucius Malfoy, a long time member and supporter of Slytherin, we have been given the newest broom available to non-professionals. This is in no way linked to Draco Malfoy having a place as a reserve." Flint added. Harry was seriously impressed he said that last bit with a straight face. It was so clearly a lie, and Flint knew it was, but in order to maintain appearances it had to be said.

The practice itself went well, and Harry thought they had good cohesion for so early on in the year. When it got dark, they trooped back to the common room, and Harry went to bed, tired but happier than he'd been in a while.

Two days later though, Dudley happened again. In Potions, Harry and Neville had taken the opportunity of Snape being a little late to class to talk with Hermione at her bench. When Snape arrived, Harry and Neville returned to their bench and they got their books out of their bags. Harry was rummaging around in his bag for ages. Where was his book? He couldn't find it. He thought he must have left it in his dorm and gratefully accepted Neville's offer to share. Hopefully Snape wouldn't notice.

Unfortunately Snape did notice, and gave Harry detention. He wasn't malicious about it, like he would have been last year if Harry had forgotten his book, more matter-of-fact as if to say actions have consequences. Harry thought no more of it.

However, in Astronomy he also couldn't find his textbook in his bag either. He thought back to that morning. He was convinced he'd put his book in his bag. It had had his homework to hand in in it. Although he didn't get a detention for not having his book, he did get one for not handing in his homework. What had happened to his books? Harry wondered, thinking he must he going mad.

During lunch, instead of going straight to the great hall to eat, Harry ran down to the dungeons to his dorm to try to find his books. If he could hand in his essay to Sinistra straight away at lunch, he might get out of detention when she realised he'd done the work really. But search though he did, he couldn't find them. When he went back up to the great hall, Dudley was lounging against the doorway,

"Lost something, Potter?" he asked nastily. Harry was quick to realise what had happened. He'd left his things alone in Potions while he talked with Hermione. The little git must have taken them then.

"Give them back, Dudley, they're mine."

"What are? I don't know what you're talking about. You can't accuse someone with no evidence you know," said Dudley, smugly and walked off leaving Harry fuming. Dudley was right, Harry couldn't accuse him without evidence, and if he did, it would seem petty, Harry trying to blame Dudley for a lost book. Who was going to believe that?

At dinner that evening, Snape was talking to Aurora Sinistra. They were lamenting the quality of the homework they'd been handed in so far this year. They both agreed the quality was abysmal, as was the fact that a certain number of students felt that homework was optional and had the audacity to not complete it.

"Speaking of which, Severus," Sinistra said, "It's never happened before, but Harry Potter didn't hand his in today. He said it was in his textbook and that he must had forgotten to bring it. How convenient." she said. "An excuse typical of students these days, I mean, do they think we were born yesterday?"

"Forgot his textbook?" Snape asked. "He didn't have his Potions book either today. Thank you Aurora, I will have words with him about organisation. Hopefully this will not happen again."

That evening after dinner Snape called Harry out of the common room for a word in his office.

"It appears, Mr. Potter, you have become rather forgetful today. Is there a particular reason, or do you think this evening's detention scrubbing cauldrons will aid your memory sufficiently?"

Harry debated telling Snape the truth, but again thought, why would anyone believe him, and even if they did, there was no proof. Better just to accept the detention, order more books and more on.

"No, sir." Harry replied. "I must have misplaced my textbooks somewhere. I can't find them anywhere."

"Have you looked everywhere? The library, your dorm, the common room?"

"Yes, sir. I may have to order new ones."

Unwilling for a student to buy replacement textbooks so soon, Snape said,

"Keep looking for them for until the end of the week. If by next Monday they have not turned up, order some more. Ask Professor Sinistra if she could lend you a spare copy until then, and for Potions, in the mean time I can lend you a copy."

"Thank you." said Harry gratefully. He knew the books wouldn't turn up. Dudley had probably flushed them down a toilet somewhere, but there was no need to tell Snape that. Next Monday he would just order some more books.

Snape nodded towards a book case on the far wall. "There's a second year potions text in there. Take that." Just at that moment, Snape's floo flared into life. Harry went to the book case, and Snape, with his back to Harry went towards the fireplace. Harry looked with interest at the other books on the shelves while searching for the potions book. He saw a very interesting, well thumbed text, Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage. Harry turned to the fireplace to check that Snape was still occupied and took the book off the shelf. Leafing through it he saw copious handwritten notes next to the printed instructions and many extra notes in the margins.

Harry wasn't by nature a dishonest boy. He would never call himself a thief. He was, however, curious. He wanted to borrow the book. If Snape had written those notes, it was his handwriting, Harry had had more experience at reading Snape's handwriting recently, being in Slytherin, then the book must be interesting.

There was also a part of Harry that wanted to impress his professor. He had never excelled at Potions, and if he could have a liitle help, or even just to learn some extra things that would show he was interested and paying attention, he felt that would improve how Snape saw him.

So Harry, quickly checking again that Snape wasn't watching, took the book and put it in his bag. He quickly found the second year potions book too and straightened up the shelves so that it wouldn't look like any other book had been taken. Harry finished just in time as Snape had finished his floo-call.

"Still here, Mr. Potter?"

"Sorry, sir, it's just that you have so many books it took me a while to find it." Snape accepted this lie as the truth and dismissed Harry with a goodnight.

"Goodnight, Professor." said Harry, and quietly shut the door behind him, then made a beeline to his dorm to hide his contraband.

For the next few evenings, Harry went up to the dorms early, claiming he was tired, shut the curtains around his bed and read Advanced Potion-Making, or to be precise, that annotated sections. There was much he didn't understand, but he could see how meticulous Professor Snape was. There were tiny revisions inked into some of the instructions. Things like one of the potions had lavender for an ingredient, and Snape had added the annotation "Must be from a plant over two years" and next to another that said "Stir five times counter clockwise." Snape had added "Stir twice counter, once clock, then twice counter."

The whole book seemed like that. But one of the things that Harry really liked were some of the notes in the margins. There was a hex, Levicorpus, that was supposed to pick your target up by the ankle. Harry made a note to try that out with the twins, and again, the rest of the book seemed filled with the same notes, he found Levicorpus, Langlock, Muffliato and Sectumsempra. Harry made a note to try a couple of those out some time. Gluing Dudley's tongue to the top of his mouth sometime was very tempting. He wondered what Sectumsempra did? Hopefully something as good as picking someone up by their ankle, Harry thought.

There were also some really cool potions in there, like Felix Felicis, the luck potion, and Elixir to Induce Euphoria, which Harry felt sounded a lot like the effects of muggle laughing gas. Hopefully, with a few hints from the textbook, Harry would improve his potion-making skills and perhaps earn a bit of appreciation from his professor.

This lead Harry on to asking himself why? Why did he want the admiration of Snape? Last year he wouldn't have cared, but this year, he did. He cared what Snape thought of him. He was gaining respect for Snape. Snape had cared enough to get him away from Dudley, and cared whether he was healthy, and cared about Harry getting an education. Harry in return wanted impress Snape. That was all there was to it. Hopefully he could.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Accused

The end of the third week of term brought Hermione's birthday. As it was a Saturday, Harry tried to spend as much of the day with her as he could. He sought permission from Professor McGonagall to sit at the Gryffindor table with her for lunch, which was granted. Ron had given her a gift in the morning on seeing that Harry was there at lunch had gone to sit at the far end of the table. Hermione glared at Ron in exasperation and rolled her eyes at him, but he didn't come over to them.

Knowing how much Hermione loved reading he'd been asking a couple of subtle questions over the past week and had opted to get her two books, one wizarding and one muggle, Cheering Charms from Flourish and Blotts and the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Hermione had squeaked with happiness and he'd been rewarded with a hug. It had been the nicest part of the day for Harry, getting a hug.

In the coming week, Snape had organised for Harry to have weekly meetings with him in which they would discuss Harry's progress in class and how he was getting on in general. Snape didn't have meetings with all his Slytherins, just those he felt he should keep a closer eye on. Snape had noticed that Harry seemed to be unhappy whenever he saw him at mealtimes, and even though he was joining in the conversations, he rarely instigated one. In the study groups, when Snape had quietly observed Harry, he'd seen Harry working, but again, not taking full advantage of having people around him. Snape knew Harry was going to the library everyday to meet his friends, and he wholly approved, but Snape couldn't help but think Harry needed every friend he could get.

Snape had also turned a blind eye a couple of times that he'd seen Harry up early for breakfast and the twins had eaten with him at the Slytherin table before anyone else was there to comment. Snape had just brought him his nutrient potion to save Madame Pomfrey a job, given the twins a look that spoke volumes about behaving, and walked on.

So for half an hour on Wednesday evening, Harry found himself in Snape's study. Not his office, his study. Snape had wanted a more comfortable environment in the hope that it would put the boy (and his other Slytherins when he met them) at ease enough to talk.

A part of Harry appreciated the gesture - Snape trying to include him, look after him, dare Harry think that he could have a home in Slytherin. But Harry wasn't about to be open with Snape - Snape set too many traps with his questions. He wanted to know things. Admittedly, things that he could help Harry with, but Harry had spent too long mistrusting those who were supposed to look after him to truly let Snape in. Snape was a good head of house though. He asked how Harry studied, how organised he was, made suggestions about how to work that would make him more productive. If only McGonagall had done this with him last year, he'd have got much better marks. And for that part of the conversation, Harry was grateful and appreciative. But inevitably, Snape asked more probing questions, about the Dursleys, Dudley, his propensity for breaking school rules, however inadvertently Harry felt that was. So Harry was polite, he'd eaten the proffered biscuits and drank the pumpkin juice and politely answered the questions as briefly as he could. One day he might feel he could open up and be honest with Snape, but there was probably going to be a cold day in hell first. The bit of information Snape had got when he'd taken a swing a Dudley in the corridor was as much as Snape was getting right now.

And so the term continued. The twins were getting increasingly worried about Harry. They came up to the library more to talk to him, and to try to persuade him to join in some fun with them, but Harry found having fun harder to achieve.

Harry had tried a couple more times to convince Hermione and Neville of the fact that Dudley was a cold, calculating, manipulative, evil bully. They were in no way in the Ron camp on the subject of Dudley, but Hermione, in response to Harry's assertions, would counter with the fact that she'd not seen Dudley do anything nasty to anyone (dungbombs around Filch wasn't nasty, it was natural justice and with that Harry couldn't argue, the man invited pranks). But every time Harry gave an instance of Dudley bullying him either at home or the couple of times here, there'd been no witnesses to the latter, and Hermione thought Harry was exaggerating or interpreting it wrong, and with the former Hermione would put it down to Dudley being bigger and not realising his own strength. If he was being cruel to other students, she just didn't see it. For someone so intelligent Harry thought, sometimes she could really be dense. That part he never voiced out loud. He needed Hermione.

There were quidditch practices too, which Harry thoroughly enjoyed. He was good at quidditch and Flint praised him accordingly. There were more things to learn on the Slytherin quidditch team than on Gryffindor though. Gryffindor tactics were about speed, position and skill. Now Harry would never say that the Slytherin team did not possess those qualities, but emphasis was also made by Flint on how they should play the game. Knowing how close to the rules they could get before breaking them, how to put pressure on the opposing team when the referee wasn't necessarily watching. That kind of thing.

So Harry learnt some new quidditch terminology. He wasn't necessarily going to be the person doing these things, as seeker he was usually out of the way of the main thrust of the game, but the others on the team practised blagging - seizing the opponent's broom tail to slow them down, blocking - 'accidentally' being in the path of the opposing team's seeker and cobbing - excessive use of elbows towards the other players.

Harry had read enough of Ron's quidditch books last year to know that these were all very normal tactics, and there were times when all of these moves weren't always classed as foul play, but Harry couldn't help feeling that that wasn't how they were going to be used by the likes of, say, Malfoy.

A month had gone by in which Harry had gone to classes, studied hard and had even managed to stay out of trouble. He had been on the receiving end of a couple of pranks from Dudley, but nothing harmful. Just enough to remind him that Dudley was there, and was there to make Harry miserable. Dudley seemed to always manage to be his usual self towards Harry when Dudley was alone, but when Dudley was with Ron, or in earshot of Hermione he just ignored Harry. That was the frustrating thing, Dudley knew what he was doing. Harry had a feeling Dudley was planning something and he didn't know what it was. Harry just knew he wouldn't come out of it well.

About that, Harry was right.

It was nearing the end of October, during the week running up to Hallowe'en. Dudley really wanted to get Harry into trouble. Dudley had spent his whole life with Harry on the bottom and Dudley on the top. His parents had always made that happen at home, and with Harry doing just enough freaky things at school to be labelled a troublemaker, it had been easy to put Harry down at school. It was ingrained in Dudley that anything Harry had was his, that anything Harry wanted he couldn't have, that a world where anything good happened to Harry did not exist.

And then Dudley had come here to Hogwarts. He'd learnt about the Boy Who Lived, and that rankled. Harry was a nothing, a nobody, cared for by no-one, with no friends. And Dudley set about restoring that status quo, with a vengeance.

Taking the boy's friends had been easy. Ron had been too easy to manipulate. What was it about Gryffindors? The twins had proved a sticking point. In hindsight, it had been a mistake to have legged it when he saw Mrs. Norris, but like hell was he going to get caught! The bookworm and the other one were, although not as easy to fool as Ron - he'd had to be careful what he did and said around them - they were easy enough. They thought he was just Harry's innocent cousin. Well, more fool them.

It had taken time for Dudley to work out the lay of the land so to speak. Who to ask questions of, where people's loyalties were. He'd had to be careful, but he was good at manipulating people, he'd had practice. He'd spoken to a couple of older students, and they'd been very helpful about a number of things. And now Dudley had a plan. He had discovered a potion called Polyjuice, and the very first thing he'd thought on learning about it had been that it would be an excellent way to get Harry in trouble. Do something while looking like Harry, lay low himself, and watch Harry get blamed. And so Dudley had spent time formulating his plan. He would need a bit of Harry's hair, and preferably, Harry's wand. He would also need some Polyjuice.

The Polyjuice proved to be the easy bit. That idiot of a DADA professor had come over all gushy and stupid when Dudley had asked him to tell him about how he'd escaped trolls in Stockton-on-Tees, and although Dudley had nearly fallen asleep having to listen to the reply, when he'd asked Lockhart for his autograph afterwards, ("Oh, Professor, how brave, please, I simply must have your autograph to remember this moment by!") the moron had just signed the piece of parchment in front of him.

What Lockhart hadn't realised was that it was a mail order request for a vial of Polyjuice, amongst other things, to be delivered to Privet Drive. Dudley included payment in cash with the order. He would then ask his father to repackage it into his weekly supply of chocolate and biscuits and no-one would be any the wiser.

When he had everything ready, Dudley waited for his opportunity. One day after class, he was early to dinner, and by chance, so was Harry. There were very few people in the great hall with them, and none of them were teachers. Dudley approached Harry, kicking the back of his bench out of habit just to annoy him. "'Evening, freak, how's it going? Eating on your own? Still got no friends?"

Harry snapped back at him, "My friends are just that, my friends. You're the one with no friends. All you can do is take mine!" Harry had half risen off his seat and was really close up to Dudley's face. He didn't notice Dudley's hand extend slightly and slip something in his drink.

"It's too easy with you, freak, you're just too sensitive." and with that, Dudley made to pat Harry's face condescendingly, a gesture which Harry slapped away, and Dudley smirked at him and walked off.

Harry picked at his dinner and drank his drink for only a minute or two more, but was so angry he left the great hall without finishing. The great hall was beginning to fill up, but he was too angry with Dudley, and didn't want to take it out on the people around him, or for that matter eat his dinner. He wanted to be alone. So he slipped out of the great hall and went up to the library. He didn't see Madame Pince when he entered, but he could hear her shooing a couple of students out for dinner. Harry quietly sat at a table in the far corner away from everyone and sulked at the unfairness of the world. He'd only been there a couple of minutes when he felt sleepy. Never mind, he thought, he'd put his head down and wait for Hermione to find him here after she'd eaten, perhaps it would clear his head of Dudley-related thoughts. They'd arranged to make a start on their Transfiguration project and they'd needed longer than their usual after class hour before dinner in here, so had arranged to be here after dinner too.

Harry was shaken awake by Hermione. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, just to shut his eyes for a moment. He hadn't realised that it'd been forty minutes since he'd fallen asleep, he assumed maybe just ten. The library was quiet, and they studied, uninterrupted, for a couple of hours.

Suddenly a house elf popped in with a note for Harry. He was to report to the headmaster's office immediately. Non-the-wiser, but unfazed, Harry collected his things, said to Hermione that they could meet again tomorrow and went to Dumbledore's office.

Snape hadn't had a good day. One of the first years had melted a cauldron in the morning, and two N.E.W.T.s students had failed to hand in homework in the afternoon. N.E.W.T.s students for Merlin's sake! did they think their exams passed themselves?! He'd also caught two Slytherins trying to get into Hufflepuff to drop dungbombs before dinner. By the time he went for dinner he was decidedly annoyed. He noticed Potter's absence from the table and mentally added to his list of things to do, 'Chew the boy out for not eating his dinner.'

After dinner the staff stood up to leave and Flint had asked if he could speak to Snape about a couple of the first years who he thought were having problems in class. Snape assented and they quietly had a brief word in the now empty great hall. So Snape was the last member of staff up to the staff common room after dinner. When he approached the room he could hear giggling emanating from inside long before he reach the door. But when he went inside he was simply shocked. There was a conga line snaking around the comfy couches and singing,

"Severus, my boy! Come in, do! Grab a drink, join us!" called out Dumbledore merrily.

"Headmaster! What is the meaning of this? What is going on?" asked Snape, bewildered.

"My boy, just for fun! You remember fun, don't you?!"

Snape was immediately suspicious. Dumbledore was one for fun, admittedly, but all of them, including McGonagall were giggling and acting like they were students. Her hair had slipped out of it usually severe bun, and even Flitwick had shed his outer robes and was dancing around in between drinking from his mug. Had someone cracked open a bottle of firewhiskey, he wondered? The only person not joining in was Professor Binns, but the ghost never did, he was sitting marking students' work with his back to the commotion.

Snape reached out and took the cup from the unresisting hands of Lockhart and he gave it a sniff, expecting to find alcohol. He couldn't smell any, but there was something in there besides coffee. He sniffed again and his delicate potions nose identified sopophorous beans and wormwood. Euphoria! They'd been drugged!

He extricated Dumbledore from the conga line as it made its way past him for the second time and tried to explain, but the headmaster was far too far gone. Snape always had on him a vial of Antidote to Common Poisons, he never knew when one of the dunderheads would taste something they shouldn't in one of his classes. He held the potion in front of Dumbledore.

"Drink this, sir, you'll feel even better," said Snape. Dumbledore drank, and Snape waited for the effects to kick in. In less than a minute, Snape heard,

"Oh, dear." Dumbledore was looking at his staff carrying on, giddy as you like.

"If, sir, you could keep them occupied and in here for ten minutes, I will be back as soon as I can with more antidote."

"Absolutely. Thank you, Severus." said Dumbledore, and Snape slipped silently out of the room. He hurried back to his supply room. Whichever student was responsible they were going to wish they'd never been born, thought Snape viciously. He would personally see to that. And he'd start by blaming the Weasleys. Pranking the students was one thing. Pranking the staff, and in such a dangerous way, was another. What if they'd all drunk the elixir, and were all being giddy, or worse, when the effects wore off, people were usually very tired and they slept. What if there'd been an emergency? He'd even seen Poppy in that conga line, acting like she was eighteen again.

When Snape returned to the staffroom he was fuming. He handed out the antidotes and there were a few very sheepish faces as everyone realised how foolish they'd all been in front of each other. Flitwick voiced what a number of them had been thinking,

"Thank Merlin we didn't leave here!" he said fervently.

"Does anyone know how this happened?" asked Dumbledore. "We were all alright at dinner. Did we eat something there?"

"You can't have done, else I would have been affected too." said Snape. "I was late up here as I was talking to a prefect, and you were all very gone when I arrived."

"So there must be something in here." said Flitwick. "I came in, I made a pot of coffee, poured myself a cup and started to do a bit of marking."

"I had a coffee and took a biscuit and sat in the corner with my feet up." said Poppy. Snape went over to the coffee pot and gave it a sniff. He held up the coffee pot.

"Did anyone not have coffee?" he asked. "The same distinct odour is in here. I'd say someone came in and spiked the coffee pot."

"That someone is in more trouble than they realise." Dumbledore said darkly. "When did we last have coffee?"

"I made a pot in the afternoon." said Minerva, "And we were unaffected then. And one of use will have been in here at all times after classes until dinner. The culprit must have sneaked in during dinner. I wonder what the twins were doing then?" she added suspiciously.

Dumbledore opened the door of the common room and spoke to a portrait outside.

"Have you seen a student here in the last few hours?" he asked.

"Yes, headmaster, a first year from the size of him. Slytherin." Suddenly all the staff were looking at Severus, who flushed at the accusing looks. One of his house, pranking the staff. As head of house it was mortifying to think he couldn't keep his own students in line. Whoever it was, they going to pay dearly for his embarrassment.

The portrait was still talking though, "Dark hair, short, pale, glasses."

"Green eyes? Scar on his forehead?" Snape asked, remembering Potter's absence at dinner. The portrait nodded. "Potter!" said Snape angrily. He was incensed.

"Let's take this into my office then." said Dumbledore. "Unless you've any objections, Severus, perhaps Minerva could also join us." Snape nodded, too angry to speak, and the three of them went to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, and Snape and Minerva sat in two of the chairs in front of the desk, and Dumbledore summoned an elf to fetch Harry.

Harry knocked on the door of Dumbledore's office. "Enter." said the voice on the other side. Harry walked in, none the wiser about anything that had happened in the staff common room in the last half hour.

Harry was used to walking into rooms and checking who was there. It was a good survival trait at Privet Drive. He learnt to judge Vernon's mood, just by looking. Harry sensed the atmosphere as soon as he walked in. Snape was angry. Really angry. Angrier than he'd been when he'd found Harry up in the owlery after he'd shoved Lockhart. Professor McGonagall was tight lipped and she had no warm greeting for him, and Dumbledore looked disappointed. What had Harry done? Nothing that he knew about, that was for sure.

"May I see your wand, please, Harry." said Dumbledore, sounding sad. Confused, Harry handed over his wand without a second thought. Dumbledore placed his wand tip to tip with Harry's and cast Priori Incantatem. The spell that revealed itself was Alohamora. McGonagall sighed. Harry looked at both her and Snape. McGonagall looked upset and Snape still looked angry.

"Why, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"Why what? I don't understand."

"Please do not play dumb. You were seen by the portraits in the corridor outside." Harry opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out. What was happening? What had he done? What portraits? Outside where?

"Sir?"

"You were seen entering the staff common room two hours ago by the portrait outside and your wand last spelled Alohamora, the spell needed to open the door of the common room. Please do not deny you were there. I only ask why?" replied Dumbledore, in tones that suggested he was losing his patience. But Harry didn't have a clue what he was on about. How could he explain anything?

"I wasn't there. I was in the library."

"The library?" asked Professor McGonagall. She looked surprised and a skeptical. She clearly didn't know Harry had spent a lot of time there this year.

" Yes, professor. I can meet Hermione there."

"And did you this evening?" asked Snape with a growl.

"Yes, sir. I was in the library during dinner and I met Hermione after she'd eaten hers."

"But she was not with you during dinner?" countered Snape.

"No, sir. I wasn't very hungry and only had a quick bite. I was in the library during most of dinner." Harry wasn't about to explain that the reason was that Dudley had goaded him into making himself not hungry, and he'd gone to the library to hide away from the world.

"But I wasn't in there long before Hermione came, she must have eaten really quickly. We studied after that for a couple of hours, then I was summoned here." replied Harry.

"But you weren't with anyone during dinner? I didn't see you in the great hall."

"No sir. I wanted to be on my own."

"How convenient." said Snape silkily. "Did Madame Pince see you?"

"No sir, we sat in the corner away from everyone so we could have some privacy and so we wouldn't disturb others." said Harry. "That way we don't get thrown out." he added.

"Did you know what the potion would do?" asked Dumbledore.

"What potion?" asked Harry, now very confused. Dumbledore brought his hand down sharply on table.

"Do not pretend Harry! Do not play dumb! Let me refresh your memory and then perhaps you will realise we know exactly what you were up to during dinner." Dumbledore rarely raised his voiced. The fact that he just had terrified Harry. Something horrible had happened, enough to upset Dumbledore, and they thought Harry had done it. There was no twinkle whatsoever in Dumbledore's eye as he continued.

" You let yourself into the common room and spiked the coffee pot with Elixir of Euphoria that affected the behaviour and judgment of the faculty and now you are standing here pretending you know nothing about it." His eyes looked deep into Harry's soul. Quietly he asked. "I only want to know why."

Harry stared back at him in shock, then tears fill Harry's eyes. He shook his head, most words getting stuck, "I didn't do it. I didn't! You have to believe me!" Harry was scared.

"Enough!" said Dumbledore. "You were seen entering by the portraits and your wand, that you clearly have on you, that you haven't conveniently lost or anything of that nature, last performed the spell to open the door of the common room. Your guilt in this matter is not up for negotiation. I want an explanation."

Harry just stood there. He was too stunned and terrified to think straight.

"Professors," said Dumbledore, addressing Snape and McGonagall, "Unless you have anything to add, Mr. Potter and I are going to have a private conversation about acceptable behaviour."

Professor McGonagall looked sad, "Harry, I am no longer your head of house, but I will tell you I am deeply disappointed by your actions. Pranks are one thing. This was a step too far."

"I didn't..." but McGonagall was already heading towards the door.

Snape stared at Harry for an uncomfortable amount of time. "We will talk about where we will go from here after your ... conversation... with the headmaster. You will go straight to your dorm when you leave here." There was a tightness to his voice that denoted anger. Harry was too busy being petrified over Snape's use of the word 'conversation' to say anything.

Harry was left alone in the office with Dumbledore. Inside Harry, another piece of his heart broke. He had trusted Dumbledore and McGonagall to listen to him, be there for him, care. His eyes filled with unshed tears. He couldn't speak. His mouth was dry. He had no voice left. The three people who would speak up for him were suddenly a million miles away. Up to now, this year, even Snape had been OK towards him. Firm, in some cases very firm, but fair. He had protected him from Malfoy and Dudley. He was understanding about Dudley. Dudley! Could he... No, that was impossible. Even Dudley couldn't be this good.

McGonagall had always been on his side. She had awarded him points for the troll last year. She had allowed him on the quidditch team. She stopped him recently on a corridor just to ask how he was. But just now she'd looked at him so coldly.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. There was no twinkle in his eye. He was angry. At Harry. And worse, he looked disappointed. Harry thought his heart might break. How could he persuade the headmaster he wasn't to blame?

Merlin, he thought, what would it be? Detention for a month with Filch? Banned from his broom for the quidditch season? Harry swallowed. Sent to Snape for his head of house to deal with. That was only going to end one way... over Snape's knee. Should he make a run for it and leg it out of the door now?

Harry's brain made a final bid to defend himself. "Sir... I didn't do it. I wasn't there. I was in the libr..." His brain stopped functioning as Dumbledore opened the top drawer of his desk and brought out a ruler. Harry just stared. This wasn't happening. This can't be happening.

"Remove your robe. Bend over the desk." said Dumbledore. Harry didn't move. He was frozen to the spot. "Now, Mr. Potter." The sharper tone brought Harry out of his reverie.

"No! I didn't do it. It wasn't me!" Harry yelled, and turned to the door. As he approached the door, Harry heard the click of the lock. Harry spun back to Dumbledore who was now standing on Harry's side of the desk, ruler in hand.

"Please don't make this harder for yourself than it already is. You have only one choice. Either bend over the desk yourself or I will stick you to it and four will be eight."

Harry just stood there, his tears finally falling. It was a tableau Harry would never forget. The moment he accepted he couldn't win. Dumbledore standing there, ruler in hand waiting for Harry to accept his fate. There was no way out. He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, and more importantly, he couldn't convince any of them of his innocence. And he certainly couldn't fight. His choice was that simple, accept bending over Dumbledore's desk to have the ruler applied to his backside or make a fuss and get double.

Harry shuddered at the thought. With agonising slowness he stepped up to the desk, removed his robe and placed it over the chair Professor McGonagall had vacated, and bent over the desk. He gripped the far side of the desk and focused on the leather padding of the desk. Tears leaked from his eyes and landed on the leather.

He heard Dumbledore step to his left, heard the ruler whizz through the air and land with a crack on his backside. A moment later the pain registered. Harry forgot to breath. All he could think of was how much that stung. He exhaled raggedly. Merlin, he thought, he couldn't cope with four of these, never mind eight. He just had time to finish that thought when the second swing landed.

Harry involuntarily yelped. God that hurt. Harry felt a number of things: upset that they hadn't believed him, disappointed that they had believed he could do such a thing. But most of all, Harry was angry. Angry that this was happening to him. His anger and resentment bubbled to the top.

Snape had spanked him in the past, deservedly, Harry would reluctantly admit, but he'd done something wrong, and deserved that punishment. This time was different, and Harry could cry out that he was sorry, or beg for Dumbledore to stop and he'd never do anything so stupid again. He had to just lie there and take it.

At the third swat, harry shifted his weight, wriggling to try to alleviate the sting.

"Do not move or I will repeat the swat." said Dumbledore. It wasn't said unkindly, just as matter of fact. Harry stayed still, waiting for it to be over.

"I do not wish to repeat this, Harry." said Dumbledore. The final swat land just where his bum met his thighs. Harry's cry came out higher and louder. That last had really hurt.

It was over. By the time Harry had control of his breathing and had peeled his fingers from the far side of the desk he was gripping, Dumbledore had replaced the ruler in the drawer. When Harry rose, Dumbledore passed him his robe. Harry got dressed and straightened up his clothing, refusing to meet Dumbledore's gaze. Harry dried his face with the proffered handkerchief. He just wanted to leave, to go to his dorm, close the curtains and wait for the world to go away.

Dumbledore returned to his chair, and stared at Harry over steepled fingers.

"I do not enjoy punishing students, Harry. Please do not make me do that again. Do you have anything to say?"

There were plenty of things Harry would like to say, but he wasn't about to say most of them. "I didn't do it." Harry said softly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I believe Professor Snape requested you return to your dorm. Good night, Harry."

Harry took that as his dismissal, and left without another word, the door unlocking as he approached it. He moved through the thankfully empty school corridors as quickly as he could for someone with a recently spanked behind. With short steps he reached the Slytherin common room. Keeping his head down, he edged unnoticed to the stairs that lead up to his dorm. He winced at every step up the stairs and gratefully found no-one in the dorm room. He crawled onto his bed , closed the surrounding curtains, laid on his stomach, buried his head in his pillow a cried into his pillow until he fell asleep.

When Harry awoke, he turned over, winced on igniting the fire in his backside, and rolled back over onto his stomach. It was only 9pm. His dorm mates wouldn't be in until 10. He heard the door open and close quietly. Footsteps made their way over to his bed. A quiet baritone voice asked,

Mr. Potter, are you awake?" There was a long pause while Harry debated answering. Should he just pretend to be asleep?

"Sir?" A hand parted his curtains. Professor Snape came in and sat on the edge of his bed. He was concerned. Harry didn't move, or even look round at him.

"I am not angry any more, Harry. You have been punished. You have been forgiven. But I want to know why."

Harry only had one answer. Never taking his eyes off the pillow he said,

"I didn't do it." Snape sighed, stood, and quietly left the room.

"Goodnight Mr. Potter." The door closed softly behind him. Harry fell back asleep to sleep until morning.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Hogsmeade

Next day Harry did not go to breakfast. He was hungry, but sitting was painful, and he didn't want to answer questions when his housemates noticed he was squirming on the benches at Slytherin table. When Snape had spanked him, even with the ruler, it'd stung but he'd been fine next day although considering how much it had hurt, Harry had been a bit aggrieved there hadn't been any evidence, like his backside turned black and blue. But Dumbledore really had paddled his backside hard, and although Harry thought he'd be fine by lunchtime, he just couldn't face anyone right now. He wondered if he could skip morning classes and get away with it.

He was just making that decision when breakfast appeared on the table next to him with a note. The note read "Eat. Do not miss class. Professor Sprout will have you potting Mandrakes. You will be standing for the morning." The handwriting was Snape's. So Harry ate breakfast ravenously and made it through the morning to lunch, by which time he could sit down and disguise the lingering ache in his bum.

Theo had asked him at lunch if anything was wrong as Harry had gone to bed yesterday evening early, wasn't at breakfast this morning and hadn't said a word to anyone all day.

"I'm OK." said Harry without any conviction. Theo looked concerned but realised Harry wasn't going to talk about it.

After classes, Harry went up to the library to find Hermione, Neville, Fred and George waiting for him.

"Harry, what's wrong? Has something happened?" asked Hermione.

"Why should it have?" asked Harry "I didn't think you were expecting me to come back to the library yesterday evening."

"It's not that, little brother," said Fred, "It's that Theo asked us if you were OK. That's a Slytherin, voluntarily asking us, Gryffindors, if you are OK."

"So spill." said George.

"Else we're not going anywhere." added Neville.

Harry took a deep breath and felt like he might burst into tears. He really hoped it didn't show, but it must have as Hermione made a move to reach out and take his hand, but she stopped just shy of his hand.

"The short answer, is that I got accused of doing something I didn't do, and I got called to Dumbledore's office. He didn't believe me when I said I was innocent."

"The headmaster's office. That's serious. What did he think you'd done?" asked George.

"I don't really want to talk about the details." said Harry.

"Can you go to Professor McGonagall?" asked Hermione. "She'll believe you. Or even Snape?" she asked with a bit less confidence in her voice.

"They don't believe me either." said Harry, the tears really threatening to fall.

"Um, Harry, if they didn't believe you," Fred started carefully, "what punishment did you get?" finished George.

"Filch? Quidditch ban?" asked Neville.

"Neither," said Harry, and didn't say any more. He just looked down at the table top. Hermione and Neville looked confused. If he hadn't got detention with Filch and still had his broom, what could be that bad? But the twins had both gone rather pale.

"What?" said Hermione looking at the twins.

"Um." said Fred.

"There was a day last year when we put itching powder in the Slytherin quidditch team's gear." explained George. "It spread to the whole of Slytherin very quickly. For some unknown, and completely inexplicable reason, we got blamed, and were sent to Dumbledore. He said that he would decide our punishment based on who our prank affected. If it was just students, he would hand us over to Professor Snape. But if there was just one itch from a member of staff, we wouldn't be sitting comfortably at meal times the next day."

"He keeps a paddle in his desk drawer." supplied Fred. "That was the most nerve wracking day I've spent at Hogwarts. I've never been so happy to have got a detention with Snape."

Harry still hadn't taken his eyes off the desk. All his friends turned to look at him.

"Harry?" Hermione asked softly, her eyes wide, fearing to learn the answer.

Harry nodded, still looking at the desk. If he'd looked up he'd have seen sympathy and hurt in everyone's eyes. No-one said anything for over a minute. The silence wasn't awkward. They were all just thinking.

"Is there any way to prove it wasn't you?" asked Fred. "I mean it's a bit late, but it'd help." Harry shrugged.

"I don't even know where to begin."

"Well we know it wasn't you if you say it wasn't. So begin where you like." said Neville.

"Someone did something while looking like me, and holding my wand." said Harry. "So if any of you can solve that puzzle..."

"When?" asked Hermione.

"During dinner yesterday."

"Any suspects?" asked George, "Bar Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and of course your cousin." Harry shook his head.

"Then we'll put our heads together." said Fred and with that the twins left the library.

"I'm sorry, Harry." said Hermione. Neville nodded in agreement with her.

"Thanks." They did some homework for a bit, but Harry's heart clearly wasn't in it and they stopped early.

* * *

That weekend was Hallowe'en. It was also the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year when the third year and above could go to the village. Fred and George had promised to bring Harry back some sweets from Honeydukes.

Hallowe'en was also the day his parents had died. He hadn't known until he'd come to Hogwarts, and last year he'd kind of half forgotten and half hadn't really noticed, but this year he thought about it a lot more. If he'd had parents then he wouldn't have gone to the Dursleys. And Dudley wouldn't be a wizard. And his life wouldn't be such a complete mess.

He got up early on Saturday, Hallowe'en, and went flying for a bit before breakfast. Up in the air he could forget for a while. After breakfast he headed back to Slytherin where the conversations around him were all about Hogsmeade, how much fun it was, how nice it was to be in a wizarding village, and how nice it was to get away from Hogwarts for a day.

Harry spent the remainder of the morning listening to the chatter and considering doing something reckless and stupid. His invisibility cloak was in his trunk. He hadn't used it all year. It was the weekend, so no-one would know where he was, or likely miss him. So why not go to Hogsmeade under the cloak? Just walk out of the main entrance, past Filch and his permission slips, and just go to Hogsmeade. He needn't go in any shops if they were crowded, he didn't plan on speaking to anyone, or doing anything to draw attention to himself. Just be invisible. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He didn't think it a very risky plan either.

So he went to fetch his cloak, made sure he wasn't seen leaving the common room with it, and went to hide by the entrance hall to leave with a group of students in case he made any noise that would draw Filch's attention, or in case Mrs. Norris could sense him. It would be nice, just walking round for the early afternoon - he'd only be gone a couple of hours - he could imagine what it was like for his parents going to Hogsmeade, and for a couple of hours, he could forget anything Hogwarts-related.

And with that thought, he walked out of the main entrance and went to the village behind a group of fifth years, no-one any the wiser.

Snape had spent some time that morning brooding. For the last three days, Potter hadn't spoken to him, or even looked at him. In Potions, he had taken down notes, brewed potions and paid attention. but he'd managed all that without ever looking at him. Snape was concerned. He'd put Harry over his knee before, but the boy hadn't held it against him. In fact, Snape thought that it'd made them respect each other a bit more. But since Wednesday, when Harry had been hauled in front of Dumbledore, the boy hadn't spoken. He hadn't spoken in class, and not just his class, any class, he hadn't spoken unless spoken to, and at mealtimes, and at the quidditch practice he'd attended yesterday he was, according to Flint, 'disengaged'. Flint had asked Snape if there was something wrong. Given Flint was the captain of the quidditch team and a prefect, Snape had gone so far as to say that Harry had done something, had been punished and that was the end of the matter. Flint was not to mention it. Flint had nodded and left it at that.

But Snape was dissatisfied. The boy was too withdrawn. Sure, being bent over the headmaster's desk wasn't pleasant, Snape himself he been in that position as a student, but there was more to it than that with Potter. Snape couldn't quite dislodge the fact that the boy hadn't admitted his wrongdoing, even when he'd gone up to his dorm afterwards, all Potter had said was, 'I didn't do it.'

Snape decided he would try to make peace with the boy - although why he was trying so hard with this one student, and Potter at that - was beyond him, except that he knew exactly why, and today of all days. Lily.

So Snape went through his personal things and found some pictures he'd kept of Lily. He made sure that neither himself not James were in any of the pictures - he didn't want to answer any awkward questions, but he was willing, especially today, to share some memories. Armed with the past, he went to find Potter.

Ron saw the twins hunched over a piece of parchment in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, and out of curiosity went to find out what they were doing.

"Hey guys, what's up? Not at Hogsmeade already?" he asked.

"Mind your own business, brother mine, this is not for sharing." said George, " Especially as you might share it with the wrong person." added Fred coldly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Ron.

"It means find a better friend." said Fred still with a chilly tone. The twins had discussed Harry at length since Thursday and could only come up with Dudley as a culprit who would do something to specifically get Harry into trouble. They discarded Malfoy, much to their chagrin, as being in Slytherin, Snape would find out and go absolutely spare.

"Who I'm friends with is none of your concern." said Ron. "So, what are you up to?" he asked with slightly more wheedling in his voice.

"To make you go away, a different means of getting to Hogsmeade. Now, get lost, and don't tell anyone." said George.

Ron stalked off, and went to sit with Dudley. He told Dudley that the twins were being stupid, but that they'd got a new way into Hogsmeade which would be great for next year, when they could go. Dudley nodded, his eyes on the twins, and then absently murmured something and went up to their dorm room.

In his trunk he still had a couple of doses of Polyjuice in the vial he'd been sent, and he'd taken more than one strand of Harry's hair while Harry had been sleeping in the library on Wednesday. Dudley pocketed the Polyjuice, and carefully placed one of Harry's hairs in a handkerchief and left the common room, without Ron seeing, just as the twins slipped out of the portrait ahead of him.

The twins led him to a statue of a one-eyed witch. He'd had to be very quiet while following the twins. He thought at least once they'd seen or sensed him, as he could have sworn they took a longer route, but maybe they were just concerned someone like Filch was following them. Dudley heard them say 'Dissendium' to the witch, and then the hump on the witch's back opened to reveal a short slide into a tunnel.

Cool, thought Dudley. The twins descended and then the passage closed up behind them. Dudley gave the twins a ten minute head start and then followed them into the tunnel. Once the passage had closed behind him, he added the hair to the Polyjuice, drank it and followed the twins down the tunnel. He hurried in the hope of catching up with them, but carefully enough as to not be heard. After half an hour he heard voices ahead and made sure to be quiet. The twins. He followed them until they stopped. The passageway had ended at a door. One of the twins opened the door a crack.

"Fred," hissed George, "Jackpot! Honeyduke's cellar."

Dudley waited until the twins had taken their chance to slip out quietly into the cellar and then followed. He couldn't get seen by the twins. As Harry, they would bundle him back down the passage and drag him back to school for his own good.

Once in Honeydukes, Dudley bought some sweets and left the shop to go investigate the village. He wasn't aiming to get into trouble as Harry this time, just that if he got caught it wouldn't be him in trouble.

He went to Zonko's joke shop to buy more dungbombs, and then headed to the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't perhaps the cleverest place to go, what with it being a pub and third years being only 14, but again, if caught, he was Harry.

Professor Flitwick was on escort duty to Hogsmeade this visit. He enjoyed the opportunity to leave the castle and be around the students in a less professor-like way. It was the weekend, they were all having a bit of a holiday, and so long as no-one did anything really stupid, it was a fun day out for all. Flitwick had called in to see Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks for a catch-up. He'd ordered a pumpkin juice and was having a chat at the bar. Unfortunately he turned around from the bar and was looking at the door just as he saw Harry Potter walk in. Harry stopped and stared at him. Flitwick stared at Harry, both too surprised to do or say anything. Harry recovered first and bolted out of the door.

By the time Flitwick was outside, Harry was nowhere in sight. Flitwick looked around the street and round a few corners, but with no success. He questioned a number of students who shook their heads and he headed back towards the Hogwarts end of the village.

Dudley ran. He didn't want to get caught. Seen as Harry was one thing, caught as Harry was something else. His Polyjuice might where off at the wrong time, like in front of witnesses, then he'd be stuffed. He had to get back to Honeydukes. So he ran. He made it, and he followed a group of fifth years into the shop and then detached from the group to slip into the cellar. Once there he followed the passageway back to Hogwarts. When he reached the Hogwarts end he stayed in the passage until the Polyjuice wore off, which took another ten minutes. He listened all the time for the twins coming behind him. He'd emerge as Harry if he had to and take his chances, rather than be caught by the twins, but he'd rather not take that risk. But everything worked out, and he emerged as Dudley into an empty corridor. He sauntered back to Gryffindor tower.

Harry, under his invisibility cloak, enjoyed his walk to Hogsmeade. He enjoyed the freedom to wander around, unquestioned, unseen. He enjoyed watching students having fun, eating sweets, and enjoying themselves. He saw the twins once, at a distance, and smiled, as they walked around laden down with Zonko's products.

Harry happened to be standing not far from the Three Broomsticks, when his blood ran cold. He saw himself. Not quite himself, he thought as he looked more carefully. Quidditch practice had taken its toll yesterday evening. He hadn't been paying attention and he flew into Lucian. Today he was sporting a bruise on his chin. The Harry he saw had no bruise.

He watched, too stunned to do anything, as his doppelganger walked into the Three Broomsticks, only to emerge thirty seconds later at a dead run. After that, he saw Professor Flitwick exit the building, look up and down the street, and question some students, who all shook their heads at him. After that, he watched as Flitwick headed in the direction of Hogwarts.

I'm dead, thought Harry. OK, keep calm, you're under a cloak, no-one can see you. Just get back to the castle, unseen, and pretend like you were there all the time, Harry thought. So he ran. He had to slow and be quiet around a few groups of students. He saw Flitwick looking impatient at the edge of the village, like he wanted to go back quickly but couldn't. Harry sneaked past him and took off again, running as fast as he could. Once back at Hogwarts, he slid easily past Filch on the door and ran back to the Slytherin common room. He checked, just before entering, that the corridor was deserted, shook off his cloak and then stepped inside.

Once in his dorm room, which was fortunately empty, he started to pace worriedly. He stashed his cloak back in his trunk, at the bottom, and thought about what to do. He'd been seen in Hogsmeade. The problem was, he'd been there. He had actually sneaked out of school, without permission, against the rules, and gone there. But then what? He saw himself? Someone was there, looking like him, running round with his face, getting him into trouble. He knew damn well who that person was, he just had to prove it.

He sought out Hermione in the library. He explained about going to Hogsmeade ("Oh, Harry, how could you?!") and the fact that he saw someone looking like him while he was there.

"Exactly like you?" she queried.

"Yes, well no, I've got his bruise on my face today, other me didn't." said Harry.

"I've read about a potion that you can use to disguise yourself as someone else - Polyjuice." Hermione said, then she gasped, "Harry, last week, that's it! You were here, and Polyjuice you was doing whatever he/she was doing." Harry still hadn't shared what he had supposed to have done that evening. In fact, he hadn't said anything else about it since their conversation on Thursday. "But how did they get your wand?" Harry didn't know that bit yet.

Harry thought Polyjuice sounded familiar to him. It took him a while to work out where he'd heard it - in the potions textbook he 'borrowed' from Snape's office. He'd have to make sure that book was well hidden for a while.

"But Harry, why would anyone go to Hogsmeade as you? You're a second year. Anyone with any sense would go as a third year or above."

"To get me into trouble perhaps?" said Harry with a bit of bite. Dense Hermione was back momentarily.

Just then, Madame Pince came over to their table, "Mr. Potter, Professor Snape requires you report to his office immediately." Harry's heart leapt into his mouth. Time to face the music, he thought, but least this time he knew what he was supposed to have done.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Innocence

Harry stood in front of Professor Snape's office door. His heart was pounding. He swallowed, and with great trepidation knocked on the door.

"Enter," said Snape. Harry opened the door, went inside, and it closed behind. Snape did not look up from the papers he was grading on the desk. The sound of his quill scratching on parchment was the only sound in the room aside from Harry's heart which Harry was sure Snape could hear from where he was sitting.

Harry was not so suicidal to interrupt. His palms grew sweaty, his fear palpable. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, Professor Snape looked up and pierced him with his onyx eyes. Harry wished he could disappear through the floorboards. Anything but be where he was.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, where were you this afternoon?" Harry swallowed. He had considered lying, pretending that he was somewhere on Hogwart's grounds all afternoon, but the more he thought about it on his way from the library to here, the more he thought the truth would be better. If he told the truth about this, then someone, at some point, might believe him about the staff common room incident.

Finding his voice at last he managed to stammer, "I... it's... it's not what you think."

"What I think is that you were in Hogsmeade this afternoon. If you were not there, please enlighten me as to your whereabouts." replied the silky voice. "The next word out of your mouth will be either 'yes' or 'no'. Were you in Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Yes, but... "

"I did not ask for excuses, Mr. Potter. Professor Flitwick saw you. He followed you to escort you back yet, you eluded him. He was concerned for your safety. Have you considered there is a reason that first and second years are not permitted to go to Hogsmeade? Or do you feel yourself above the rules?"

"Please, sir, listen to me, please." said Harry, pleading, begging for Snape to let him tell him his side of the story. "It wasn't me. Well, it was, but it wasn't, if you see what I mean."

"No, Mr. Potter I do not. You are making about as much sense as your last potions essay, which let me tell you, left a lot to be desired."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. He had to explain. For the first time in so long he could begin to feel his way through the nightmare. He had to take a deep breath and explain, calmly. The fact that Snape was giving him a chance to speak for himself instead of just chewing him out was an encouraging sign. He could see a light at the end of the tunnel, he just hoped it wasn't that of an oncoming train. All he had to do was Snape make believe him.

"Sir, I was in Hogsmeade, but I was not at the Three Broomsticks."

"That is a lie, Mr. Potter. Professor Flitwick clearly saw you there." said Snape, flatly.

"No, he did not. I was in the street and I saw...well, me... going into, then running out of, the Three Broomsticks. Professor Flitwick made to follow. I saw me disappear round the corner. Professor Flitwick didn't see where I, er the other me, went. Professor Flitwick then headed to the Hogwarts end of the village. He stood at the edge of the village impatiently for ages. I slipped past him and ran here."

"You wish me to believe you were standing in the middle of the street, in plain sight, watching yourself gallivanting around the village?! Mr. Potter, do you take me for an idiot?"

"No, no, sir. But that's what I saw. I was hidden under my cloak, that's how I got to Hogsmeade in the first place."

"Your cloak?"

"Yes sir, my invisibility cloak. It was my father's. I was given it amongst my Christmas presents last year."

Snape looked like he'd swallowed something sour for a moment. He was about to say something then stopped. Harry wasn't sure what the man was thinking, but it surely wasn't good.

The ensuing silence seemed to eat up the air in the room. Harry felt the urge to fill that silence.

"Sir, I was talking to Hermione. She says there's a potion called Polyjuice. She says it can allow the drinker to imitate another person. She suggested someone might have used it to go to Hogsmeade looking like me."

"And who might that person be?" asked Snape from a faraway place.

"Sir, I think it was my cousin."

The silence continued. The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Snape snapped out of his reverie. He stared at Harry, enough that Harry felt very uncomfortable, as if Snape could see right into his soul.

When Potter mentioned James' cloak Severus' mind went back to a far more unpleasant time. He got caught up in his own thoughts. The boy was still speaking. Snape replayed the last things Potter had said. That Harry would blame his cousin wasn't strange, but that the whale of a boy could do it? That was trickier to fathom. And so he thought about what he knew.

Severus would be the first person to admit that he had a naturally suspicious mind. When events did not stack up in his mind, they would niggle until he had straightened them out. In summer, when he had first gone to Privet Drive he'd been confused. Surely Potter had lived like a prince, the saviour of the wizarding world, The Boy Who Lived. He'd been disabused of that notion by the actions of the boy's so called family. There was no love lost there.

He'd then taken the boy to Diagon Alley, and even being out with the 'bat of the dungeons' had seemed preferable to Potter than being in the house with his relatives. On returning, Snape had shown Harry his displeasure yet the boy had sought his comfort afterwards and had seemed touched by what Snape would described as no more than due care and attention.

He had demanded Harry be resorted and the boy had been what? Relieved? Certainly not angry and hateful, considering Snape had removed easy access to his best friends. Potter had preferred a rocky time with his friends than to even spend one night sharing a dorm room with his cousin? What on earth had the cousin done to him?

Dumbledore had thought Harry's actions in spiking the coffee had been in teenage retribution for taking him away from his friends. But that would only partially fit. Harry still had his friends, well most of them, from what Snape could tell, and he spent time with them daily. Now, what if those actions were not Harry's?

Snape paused in his analysis. Harry was still standing in front of his desk. Snape knew he hadn't said anything for a little under a minute.

"Your cousin, Potter? Polyjuice?" Snape left the question hanging. See if the boy had a coherent argument while Snape thought about his.

Why had he just been thinking about thinking about the coffee? He should have been thinking about Hogsmeade today. But no, it fit. Polyjuice would have sufficed for both incidents. Harry spiking drink was not in his character. The boy wasn't that conniving - he was too Gryffindor. Snape remembered he'd been angry with the boy when the portrait had named him the culprit, and if he was honest, embarrassed that a member of Slytherin had done it. He hadn't been in the mood to question the veracity of accusation. He'd agreed with Dumbledore's punishment, but he'd been more than a little surprised by Harry's actions since, especially him maintaining his innocence. That had nagged at him all the rest of the week.

He'd been surprised by Harry spiking the coffee because he'd not seen it coming. Part of why he was a good head of house was that he anticipated his students' actions. He knew when they might break curfew and knew when they were plotting mischief. But that incident he had not seen coming, and anger had clouded his judgment.

"Sir, I have a cloak. I was not seen. Why would I want to get seen and get into trouble?" said Harry, breaking him out of his thoughts again.

Yes, thought Snape. The boy had an invisibility cloak. Oh, he knew he had. He'd seen it enough times in James' possession to know the truthfulness of Harry's statement. That silly old coot of a headmaster must have had it all these years and given it to Harry in a fit of sentimentality. Were the marauders not enough? Why did Dumbledore feel the need to unleash that kind of mischief potential on his school? The man must be going senile!

Why would Potter have wanted to have been seen? The boy wasn't stupid. Snape could understand his need to be alone today of all days, to have a quiet moment, even though he couldn't condone him leaving school grounds.

Snape couldn't get the idea of Polyjuice out of his head, that seed had sprouted. But how had the culprit got in and out of Hogsmeade? Snape would hold off on Harry's insistence it was Mr. Dursley until he had something else to go on. He'd already perhaps falsely accused one student this week. Only Harry had a cloak, and Argus would have been meticulous about who got past him this morning. And if he were thinking of the other incident, how was Harry's wand used to open the staffroom door?

Snape had made a decision. He had decided he believed Harry.

"I will think on what you have said, Mr. Potter. I will investigate. At some not too point in the future however, we will discuss your decision to go to Hogsmeade."

Harry swallowed. That wouldn't be a fun discussion, thought Harry, but a little bit of his heart soared, daring to hope that his head of house believed him. Snape stood up from behind his desk, and Harry assumed, wrongly, he was going to be dismissed.

"I have something to show you, Mr. Potter. I came to find you earlier, but clearly you were out." Harry blushed. Snape indicated Harry follow him, and they went into Snape's study. Snape motioned for Harry to sit on the couch and much to Harry's surprise, Snape sat down next to him.

Snape reached into his robes and drew out an envelope. He handed the envelope to Harry.

"Open it."

Harry opened the unsealed envelope and took out the contents. His breath constricted in his throat. There was a photo of his mother, she was waving at him. He could see it had been taken in the great hall on a sunny day, early in the morning from the way to sunlight was streaming through the windows. Harry held the photo carefully by its edges. Wizarding photos held so much life, he wanted to be able to reach out and touch her.

"There are more." said Snape. Harry jumped at the voice. He'd absently blocked out the rest of the world while looking at that picture. Harry looked at the next picture. His mother reading a charms book by the lake, laughing at the picture taker. Then there was a series of three photos. In the first, his mother was cutting up potions ingredients, in the second she was brewing, and in the last photo she was holding a vial of purple potion proudly.

"Your mother made a good Dreamless Sleep potion." said Snape.

"You knew my mother?" Harry asked, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Your mother and I were good friends at one time. We drifted apart as we got older." he added sadly.

"Did you know my dad too?" asked Harry eagerly.

"Yes." said Snape shortly. Harry waited to see if there was going to be anything added to that. "I knew your mother before we were at Hogwarts, that's why we were friends." said Snape.

Harry nearly brought up his dad again, but got the vague impression that Snape didn't want to talk about him, and Harry wasn't about to do anything that would stop Snape talking about either of his parents.

"Mr. Potter, I know that you don't have much to remember your parents by. I want you to have these."

"Sir? But these are yours. Did you take these pictures?"

"Yes, I took them. But I also took others. And I have my memories. These I give to you." the tears Harry had been holding back started to leak down his face. He tried to blink them away.

"Thank you, sir." said Harry, his voice thick with emotion. He carefully put the pictures back in the envelope and placed the envelope securely in his robes. He now had a precious possession.

"I believe it is time for the feast soon." said Snape. "Today, Mr. Potter, you should be with your friends. Sit where you like this evening." Harry was amazed, and so grateful. With Snape being in such a benevolent mood, Harry tried for one more thing.

On his way to the door, Harry turned back to his head of house, "Sir, could you please do one thing for me? If it's not too much trouble?"

"What would that be, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape.

"Um, not in class like, but um, could you, when we're in your office, please call me Harry?" That came out in a bit of the rush at the end, and Harry knew he'd have to do better than to just ask. Snape always called people by their surname. He probably thinks of me using my surname, Harry thought. "It's just that Vernon and Petunia and Dudley never really do. They just call me Potter, or boy or..." he trailed off, unable to voice the next word out loud.

Snape held his gaze for a longer while than was comfortable.

"Go to the feast, Harry." Harry went.

Harry sat with Hermione, Neville and the twins at the feast. No-one mentioned him being in Hogsmeade today. They talked of other things, and Harry could enjoy the feast. For the first time in a long time he nearly felt happy. He was eating with his friends. He had been given pictures of his mum. He had even managed to make someone believe him. No-one out of the five of them mentioned him being at Hogsmeade today either. It seemed Dudley had carefully orchestrated for only Flitwick to see him. Harry looked down the Gryffindor table and searched out Dudley. Dudley was laughing with Cormac McLaggen and Ron. Dudley must have had a sixth sense. He looked over to Harry, saw him watching him and smirked. At that point Harry knew. Dudley's smirk's spoke volumes. They always did. But all those volumes started with 'You will be blamed for something I've done.' Up to that point, Harry had had the tiniest doubt that it could be in his head, that it was someone else. But not anymore. Now, now he just knew it was all Dudley.

Severus had got to the great hall for the feast and sat down at the head table next to Filius.

"I see Harry is still able to sit comfortably, Severus. Are you going soft?" he joked quietly.

"I wished to speak to you about today, Filius," replied Snape. "Harry told me a very strange tale. He admitted he was in Hogsmeade, and for that he will be punished, but he says he wasn't in the Three Broomsticks. He says he saw what you saw. That a person that looked like him, went into the pub, and came out again at a run and ran away. He says he saw you speaking to a couple of students while searching for 'him' before you stood at the edge of the village waiting to return here with the last students. He believes someone impersonated him using Polyjuice."

"Why such an elaborate tale?" asked Flitwick, "You believe him? He admitted to being there."

"Yes, and if he was there and admitted it, why would he bother to make up the rest?" responded Severus, "Unless it is true. I will say this for the boy. Harry has never struck me for a liar."

Dumbledore had been listening to their conversation. "Until last week. He proved himself a liar by denying his actions in the staffroom."

"What if he was telling the truth, headmaster? What if it wasn't him then either?"

"And his wand? How do you account for that?"

"At the moment, I cannot, but give me time and I will."

All three professors looked across the great hall to where Harry was sitting, enjoying the feast with his friends. Severus had to admit, the boy looked nearly happy for once. He saw Harry look over towards his cousin. Snape did not miss the smirk Dudley gave Harry.

At that moment Snape knew Harry was telling the truth. His cousin knew something. What, Snape couldn't say for sure. Was Harry right about everything? Was Mr. Dursley the root of both these incidents? If so, where had he got Polyjuice? How had he taken Harry's wand? How had he got to and from Hogsmeade? Snape silently vowed to find out. He would not permit that level of maliciousness go unpunished.

Snape got up next morning with a single aim for the day. To prove Harry (Merlin, he now sometimes even thought of him as Harry, not Potter) innocent. He'd seen enough to know Potter was more than likely right. He just had to prove it.

Snape went to the great hall for breakfast. Minerva and Albus were already there.

"I wish to speak to you regarding Mr. Dursley."

"He's settling in so well." said Minerva effusively. "He's making friends with Misters Weasley and McCormac. They're encouraging him to play quidditch. He's obviously not a natural player being the size he is, but it's nice they're accepting him. Shame Harry can't be with him though. "He's polite in class and generous with his friends. Just yesterday I saw him sharing sweets with the other two boys."

Snape thought about this for a moment and said, "Have you considered where he got them from?"

"You mean the sweets? I presume from someone who went to Hogsmeade." replied McGonagall. "What are you implying, Severus?"

"Nothing until I can prove my accusations," said Severus enigmatically. Severus spent some time over breakfast reappraising Dudley Dursley. He wasn't outwardly arrogant like Malfoy, or just muscle and no brains like Crabbe or Goyle. He was more dangerous. The hat should have put him in Slytherin, Severus thought.

After breakfast, Snape headed to his classroom. He had a potion to set brewing for the infirmary, then he could devote some time to the matter of Mr. Dursley. He'd just begun to chop his ingredients when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said waspishly. There were few times in the week when he had uninterrupted time just to brew and mentally review his week and he could usually guarantee Sunday morning was one of them. He was very surprised to find the Weasley twins standing in front of him. They were nervous. He wondered what on earth they'd done to voluntarily come to find him that wouldn't wait for him to find out himself. Was the Astronomy Tower still standing? He levelled his best stare at them while he continued to prepare his ingredients. Fred shuffled from foot to foot watching the knife he was holding. Snape wondered idly why some people found distinguishing the twins apart so hard. To him it was easy. Just look at the eyes.

"Sir...," tried Fred. There was a pause.

"Spit it out, boys, I haven't got all day."

George tried, "Sir, it's ... Harry." The word Harry came from Fred's lips at the same time. That could really be disconcerting with them sometimes.

"What has happened? Is he alright?" demanded Snape. He hoped that Harry hadn't taken the Dudley matter into his own hands and done anything precipitous.

"Nothing. It's more what's been done to him..." said Fred.

"Where is he? Is he alright?"

George had a suicidal moment, "You tell us, sir."

Fred elbowed George in warning, as Snape's gaze grew even chillier. "He didn't mean it like that, sir. It's just that we noticed Harry wasn't sitting too comfortably a few days ago and that although Professor McGonagall doesn't exercise that particular method of discipline we assume you do."

"What happens between Mr. Potter and the staff at his school is between Mr. Potter and the staff, and is not for public consumption Mr. Weasley," said Snape with a hint of anger.

"And for the remainder of the week Harry has been depressed." continued Fred. "And I don't mean like when we get caught by our mum and spend an afternoon wishing we hadn't been quite so reckless. We've spent the last three days trying to get him to even crack a smile, or perhaps speak, but he doesn't. He doesn't join in our pr... erm... join us for homework, and Hermione has seen less of him in the library too."

"And it's not just this week, although that's been bad." added George. "We've seen him out on his broom, but on his own. The other day he came back to castle soaking wet. He'd been flying in the rain, but he hadn't noticed. We just want to know he's alright." finished Fred.

"And that you're looking after him, unlike last year." added George clearly still lacking any self-preservation this morning.

Severus wouldn't say he was a patient man. The probability of him taking any lip from students was zero. Standing in front of him were two fourth years, questioning his ability to look after a student in his own house. In his own classroom. His normal reaction would have best been described as explosive. How dare they?! Arrogant, interfering little...

And yet, here he was, listening to them, letting them speak, never mind letting them continue living. They were right. Snape was not just harsh with others and held them up to a standard. He held himself up to a standard. He'd spent a lot of years trying and failing to atone for Lily's death, and at last he'd got an opportunity to look after her only son, and he'd screwed it up. He had not done right by Harry. He had not listened. He had not asked questions. He had not noticed the little details in the weeks leading up to this one. He'd had weekly meetings with the boy, but he hadn't looked further than finding answers to his own questions. He hadn't genuinely looked at Harry and asked what was wrong. The twins were right, he'd not looked after Harry. Even his own scales of justice had weighed and measured him and found him wanting.

"I thank you for your concern, and I'm sure so would Mr. Potter. I am... looking out for him." Now, he added guiltily in his own head. Fred and George didn't look entirely convinced. Smart lads, thought Snape. George added,

"We wanted to bring him something back from Hogsmeade yesterday but we didn't see him in the afternoon when we got back, or the evening, bar at the feast." said Fred. "He must have gone back to his dorm. We've not seen him this morning either. Sir, could you give him these please?" He produced a bag of Honeydukes candies. "We wanted to get him their new exploding candies but they'd sold out by the time we'd got there after we'd lost Dursley."

Snape was about to ask if they thought him a suitable person for an errand boy, but his internal justice system told him errand boy was a suitable penance for not looking after one of his charges. Wait. Losing Mr. Dursley?

"Pardon?" said Snape, his curiosity aroused. After all, anything about Mr. Dursley yesterday would be useful. If only he could just use Legilimency on Mr. Dursley, or force feed him veritaserum and demand to know what the hell he'd done. Unfortunately the Board of Governors frowned on that kind of behaviour. Apparently children tell the truth when questioned.

"Nothing, it's nothing," said Fred, going red, wishing he'd guarded his tongue more.

George tried to rescue him. "It's just that Dudley kept following us and we had to try and lose him."

"But surely you walked out of the front gate? Mr. Dursley has no permission slip. Therefore he could not go to the village due to the diligence of Mr. Filch on duty." and his damn cat, added Snape internally.

George open and closed his mouth in an Oscar-winning impression of a fish. Fred was out of ideas and just stood there. The silence grew.

"Gentlemen." Snape purred. "You will explain. In consummate detail. You will leave nothing out. If you are honest, and you have done nothing that puts your lives in danger you will not be punished. If you are not completely honest with me you will find out first hand why my Slytherins toe the line. Speak." he barked the last word at them, fixing them with a look.

After a few moments, Fred plucked up the courage to speak. He wasn't going to mention the map, but he would have to give up the secret passage. It wasn't the only one. He wondered fleetingly why Snape had been interested in Dudley in the first place, did the man know or suspect that Harry's cousin was the cause of Harry's troubles?

"We know a different way to Hogsmeade." said Fred, "We don't just sneak out any time." he added hurriedly, seeing the expression on Snape's face.

"Yes," said George, "the people in the village would know." Fred trod on his foot.

Snape waited, never taking his eyes off them. "There's a hidden passageway. By the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor. It goes to Hogsmeade and comes out in Honeyduke's cellar."

"Fascinating." said Snape flatly. "Pray continue." Fred could hear the harmonics in his voice. That last comment came out as 'Prey, continue.'

"Sir, Dudley followed us out of the common room. We didn't want him to know about the passage so we tried to lose him in the castle. It took us ages to lose him. By the time we did, and got to Honeydukes, the exploding candies had sold out."

"Are you sure that you 'lost him' as you put it, and that he did not go to Hogsmeade through the passage behind you?" Snape asked.

"I thought I heard something at one point, but we paused and listened. There was silence, I must have imagined it, or it was rats." said Fred.

Snape glowered at them, giving them a stare he reserved for true dunderheads. If possible, the twins huddled closer together.

"Very well, do not let me detain you." He turned and went back to his cauldron and chopping board. The twins fled. They didn't need to be told twice.

So, thought Snape, the boy had taken Polyjuice, followed the twins down the passage, bought his sweets in Honeydukes, been seen by Filius and then presumably returned in the same manner. That solved one mystery. Now, to prove it or get a confession. I'd quite enjoy getting a confession out of the whale, thought Snape. Well, that solved one mystery, now for Harry's wand and entering the staffroom.

Snape spent a further hour setting his potion to brew. When it got to the simmer stage, he had to leave it until morning. Time to investigate. Harry had said he'd been in the library on Wednesday, instead of at the staffroom. He'd start there. It had been less than a week ago. Hopefully one of the portraits would remember something.

There was a portrait at the end of the corridor to the library. In it was a knight on horseback jousting.

"Good morning, Sir Knight." said Snape politely. It irked him to have to talk to some of the portraits like this, but manners mattered to the portraits, as talking was all they had.

"Good morrow, Professor. Can I aid you on a quest today?" enquired the knight.

"Hopefully you can," replied Snape, hiding his irritation at the knight. "Four days ago, during dinner, a short second year student with black hair came up here and went to the library. No-one else will have been around. About a hour later another second year student came up here. She had brown frizzy hair."

"I remember," said the knight. "There was another boy too, a large boy, Gryffindor. He arrived shortly after the first boy. Then the first boy left and returned, maybe half an hour later. Then the large boy left. Then the girl arrived."

"Are you sure?" asked Snape.

"Absolutely." replied the knight. "I am a portrait in this castle. I watch what goes on. I have had many years' practice and I'm good at it." he said, annoyed that the professor felt the need to check.

"I apologise, Sir Knight," said Snape, accepting the rebuke. "Thank you for your information and your diligent watchfulness."

"You are most welcome." replied the knight, mollified by Snape's response.

Harry had said he'd fallen asleep. What if Dursley had taken a hair from his head while he'd been asleep, gone to the staffroom, spiked the coffee and returned. He could have taken Harry's wand with him, used it - Dudley was blood kin, Harry's wand would probably have responded for such a simple spell - returned, waited for the Polyjuice to wear off, then left before Miss. Granger arrived. Easy enough. If he met anyone he could have passed himself off as Harry, and if caught at the staffroom door he could have made an excuse. The only part where he had to ensure he hadn't been caught was the minute or so he'd spent in the common room itself.

But to prove it? The knight had seen Harry leave and return, not Dursley. Perhaps the best course of action was to be more direct. Snape knew the truth. He just had to get Dursley to admit it. Time to see what Dudley Dursley was made of...

Snape checked on his potion, then went up to the headmaster's office.

"Severus, my boy! To what do I owe the pleasure? Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, cheerfully.

"No, thank you, Albus. I'd rather get straight to business. If I'm right, you will not find this conversation pleasurable."

Dumbledore grew serious. "What's the matter, Severus?"

"I believe you, we, have made a grievous mistake." responded Snape. Dumbledore looked at him quizzically. "I no longer believe Harry Potter entered the staffroom and spiked our drinks."

"But the portraits saw him. His wand gave him away. It was him. What makes you reconsider?" asked Dumbledore.

"Polyjuice, headmaster."

Albus reached for a lemon drop. "That's a rather far-fetched theory, Severus. Perhaps you should elaborate."

"My explanation involves a student in Gryffindor. Perhaps Minerva should be privy to our discussion."

"By all means," said Dumbledore and he headed towards the floo. A few minutes later Professor McGonagall was seated in Dumbledore's office.

Severus quickly caught Minerva up on why she was there, then proceeded to explain his theories about Hogsmeade and the staffroom incident, complete with the evidence of the twins and the portrait on the library corridor. When he had finished, Minerva and Albus both wore expressions of concern. Albus cleared his throat and reached for another lemon drop.

"But if you are right, Severus, I falsely accused Harry. I..." he trailed off.

"Precisely, headmaster. I believe you bent the wrong student over your desk."

There was a long silence. Eventually Minerva spoke. "Severus, you believe Mr. Dursley is to blame. Myself I do not believe it. I believe now that there is a strong possibility of Harry being innocent of the coffee incident, but I do not share your opinion that Dudley is the culprit. He seems to have adjusted well and he has friends, he appears considerate of others. To spite his own cousin like that... really I am not convinced."

"Then allow me to interview him."

"Severus, I am aware of your reputation. Thirty minutes alone with you in the dungeons would make any student confess to killing their own grandmother!" Minerva retorted.

"Please, I'm not that good." Snape replied modestly, although he was secretly pleased about his reputation. "However, if it would make you more comfortable, we could speak with Mr. Dursley now, here, with all of us present."

Minerva thought about this for a second then nodded her head tightly. She wasn't pleased with the situation but she'd be able to rescue her lion if Severus became too harsh. Like Severus, she would defend members of her house to the hilt.

Dumbledore summoned a house elf to send Dudley to his office. Minutes later there was a knock on the door that revealed Dudley Dursley.

Dumbledore indicated to the spare chair in front of his desk. "Lemon drop?" Severus sighed in exasperation. Dudley took a sweet and popped it in his mouth. Dumbledore looked enquiringly at Severus who took this as his cue that the floor was his.

"Mr. Dursley, do you know why you have been summoned here?" Dudley shook his head. "A verbal answer." he barked, sharply.

Dudley swallowed his sweet nervously. "No sir."

"Tell me, Mr. Dursley, did you enjoy your visit to Hogsmeade?" Dudley's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected that. Severus also noticed that there was just a hint of worry in his expression. Snape just knew he was right. He just had to get him to trip himself up.

"Sir, I've never been to Hogsmeade. Second years aren't allowed." Dudley replied, appealing to the headmaster. So, it was going to be like that, thought Snape - playing dumb and innocent. Well two can play at that game, and Severus had had more practice. Time to turn the thumb screws.

"You were seen there, Mr. Dursley. By a number of students."

Dudley panicked. Had his Polyjuice failed at some point?!

"I wasn't! I mea n, I wasn't there to be seen. Sir." he added belatedly. Dudley had clearly played this game before, Snape thought. Deny everything. Snape decided to play his hand. He hoped he had the details right and his cards came up aces.

"Oh, but you were there, Mr. Dursley. You followed the twins down the passageway behind the one-eyed witch. You disguised yourself as Mr. Potter with Polyjuice. You bought sweets from Honeydukes, then you went for a walk around. You went to the Three Broomsticks and were seen by Professor Flitwick and then you returned by the same route, seemingly no-one the wiser, all innocent."

Dudley had stared at Snape in shock halfway through his explanation. It was uncomfortably accurate. He began to shake his head.

"Do not deny it, Mr. Dursley. I know the truth!" Snape's voice was sharp and menacing. "And do you know how I know?" Dudley opened his mouth, but didn't get a chance to speak as Snape continued. Snape decided he needed to gamble. He knew everything there was to know about Polyjuice, especially how long a dose lasted.

"You made a grave mistake. You had to wait in the passageway for the Polyjuice to wear off." Then he added quietly, "but you left evidence. See, you left your sweets behind." said Snape, producing from his robes the bag of Honeydukes the twins had given him to give to Harry.

It was at this point Dudley slipped up. He'd been sent into a mental spin when Snape described his afternoon perfectly. How did the man know? But on this, he knew, Snape was wrong. His mouth spoke before his brain had chance to shut it up.

"That's a lie!" he yelled. "They're not mine. I gave mine to my friends in the com..." he trailed off as his brain caught up. He gulped. Shit, he thought.

Dumbledore and McGonagall had remained silent throughout the exchange. Minerva now just looked shocked. Albus just looked pale. Dumbledore recovered enough to fix Dudley with a stern expression. The twinkle in his eye had long since disappeared.

"Your best hope for clemency, Mr. Dursley, is to tell the whole truth. Where did you get the Polyjuice?"

Dudley swallowed. At least he knew when the game was up, Snape thought.

"Owl order, sir."

"And Harry's hair?" Dudley went silent. He'd just had a horrid thought. What if they realised about the other time he'd used it? He wracked his brain for a plausible excuse. He couldn't think if one. The silence had been too long and they'd know he was thinking up a lie. Minimum truth then, he'd been around Harry enough times while the boy had slept for anything to be plausible.

"From Harry's head, sir. While he was asleep."

"In the library?" asked Snape sharply. That really rattled Dudley. How did the man know these things? Could he read his mind? It took him too long to answer again. Damn. Snape had caught him off guard. If the man had said the library he must know it had been in there. Had there been another student in there? Or Madame Pince?

"Yes, he'd fallen asleep. I took the opportunity."

"And did you take anything else? His wand perhaps?" asked Snape venomously. Dudley's jaw dropped.

Oh God. He knows. Dudley clamped his jaw shut.

"Mr. Dursley," said Snape with genuine nastiness, "Do you perchance know what legilimency is?" Dudley shook his head. "It is the ability to read the mind of another by force. I am a master legilimens. Believe me, it would be the work of a moment to rummage around that empty skull of yours to find the answers I'm looking for. And, what's more, it would not be a pleasant experience for you." Snape had advanced on Dudley until his face was mere centimeters from the Dudley's, Snape towering over the boy, "Now, you have two choices, confess your sins of your own volition or I will find the answers myself." these last words were delivered in a hiss.

Unseen by Dudley, too terrified to look anywhere but Snape, Dumbledore fixed Severus with a disapproving look, and Minerva had opened her mouth in protest, although neither hadn't spoken. Severus was bluffing, Albus knew, but threatening students with illegal inquisition techniques was not something Albus tolerated. Albus wasn't about to disabuse Dudley of the notion that Severus would do exactly what he'd promised, but the look he shot the potions master promised hard words later.

Dudley gave in, terrified. He told them about ordering Polyjuice, drugging Harry's cup at dinner, stealing his wand, going to the staffroom, spiking the coffee and returning in time for the potion to wear off.

He explained how he'd got Lockhart's signature on the order, and had it shipped to Privet Drive. He'd not told his parents what the order was, just that it was school things. Also, how he'd got a couple of sleeping pills sent to him from his mother, claiming he'd not been sleeping properly, how he'd goaded Harry into leaving the great hall and going to the library. How he'd followed him, waited for him to go to sleep, taken his wand and hair, taken a dose of Polyjuice and walked to the staff common room. The corridors had been quiet with just the odd student. The staff were all at dinner as he'd disturbed Harry when he had just sat down. He'd knocked on the common room door. If anyone answered he was going to say that Peeves was playing up in the Astronomy tower and he'd try again another day. But there'd been no answer, and he used Alohamora with Harry's wand to gain entry. Just Professor Binns had been there, marking, not looking at door. He'd gone to the coffee pot and poured in the Elixir of Euphoria - he'd bought it at the same time as the Polyjuice. He'd then hurried back to the library, returned Harry's wand and hidden in a corner behind some shelves until the potion wore off. He'd left without seeing anyone else.

When he finished, the three teachers were looking at him with expressions of disappointment and in Snape's case, downright anger.

"Why, Mr. Dursley?" asked Dumbledore. The answer came back almost immediately.

"Because he's only Harry, a worthless freak." Snape, who'd sat down during Dudley's explanation rose quickly.

"Severus!" said Dumbledore. They locked gazes for a moment, before Snape sat back down again.

"Do you have anything to say in your defence?" asked Dumbledore.

Dudley shrugged. "Why should I? It's only Harry."

Snape's hand twitched. For that remark he'd love to put the boy over his knee right there and then. Then give him a healing potion and do it again.

Dumbledore saw Snape's reaction. "Professors, perhaps you should leave this with me now. I believe Mr. Dursley will be feeling suitably contrite in the near future as we will be having an extended chat."

Minerva and Snape recognised the words for the dismissal that they were, rose, and left the office. Once outside, McGonagall turned to Snape.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Severus. And I'm truly sorry I didn't believe Harry."

Severus looked into her eyes and said sadly, "That's something we are all sorry for, Minerva. If you will excuse me, I have a potion brewing, and an apology to prepare." And with that, he turned and strode away, his robes billowing behind him.

At dinner that evening, when Severus went to sit at the head table he sat next Dumbledore.

"How many?" he asked.

"Ten." Snape nodded, satisfied.

" He deserved every stroke and then some."

"You need not look so smug, Severus, we still have to have words about your methods of extracting information."

Snape winced. "Yes, headmaster."

"My office. At your convenience."

"Yes, sir." replied Severus.

After dinner Snape sent a note to Harry to come his office. On Harry's arrival, Snape invited him in and gestured for him to sit in the chair in front of his desk. Snape sat down, carefully, and cleared his throat. Awkwardly he started to speak.

"Harry, I have spent the day investigating your claims about Mr. Dursley visiting Hogsmeade. It transpired he was indeed there, in the manner you described." Snape watched the look of smug satisfaction cross Harry's face. The boy certainly was entitled to it.

Now, for the awkward part, he thought.

"In the course of my investigations it appears that it was also Mr. Dursley who went to the staff common room and spiked the coffee pot." The look on Harry's face was worth remembering. You wouldn't have necessarily noticed that Harry had been unhappy to look at his face when he'd entered the room. But to compare it with how he was in that instant. Harry wore his emotions on his face far too easily. Snape saw surprise, followed by a moment of disbelief in which he'd blinked, and then waves of relief poured off Harry.

If it wasn't that Snape felt so guilty about the whole situation that he'd wanted to crawl away and hide, he'd have appreciated the moment much more.

"Sir, what will happen to Dudley?" Harry was unable to keep the uncharacteristic vengeance out of his voice when he asked the question.

"Although it is usual practice for details of someone's punishment to stay private, the headmaster said I could tell you if you asked."

Immediately after dinner Snape had met with Dumbledore. Dumbledore had had a rather pointed discussion with him about his actions and words interviewing the Dursley boy, and Snape had refused to apologise for what he felt was necessary. Dumbledore had definitely demonstrated his displeasure. Not that he shared any of those details with the boy in front of him!

But they'd also discussed whether or not part of Dudley's punishment should be that Harry would be told. They decided, given the severity of Dudley's actions towards his cousin, and the lack of remorse he'd shown, Harry would learn the details.

"Mr. Dursley received ten swats with the headmaster's ruler." Harry winced, that had to have hurt. But Harry didn't exactly feel compassion. Dudley deserved it. "He is also suspended tomorrow. Given your aunt and uncle have no floo to send Mr. Dursley home, he is therefore ground to his dorm room for the day, from when he left the headmaster's office until Tuesday breakfast."

"Saves him sitting down in class." said Harry darkly, still feeling vindictive. Snape smirked, but didn't say anything. There was silence for a few moments.

"Harry... I am sorry that I did not investigate more at the time. You protested your innocence and we did not listen. For that I am truly sorry." Snape was awkward making apologies. He rarely had to make them as he was rarely sorry for anything he did. He hadn't apologised to Dumbledore for essentially threatening Mr. Dursley. The boy deserved scaring witless in his books. But Harry was different. He had truly made a terrible, unforgivable, mistake with Harry. He had failed to look after the boy and had failed to listen.

"I know that the headmaster and Professor McGonagall feel the way I do about punishing you before we had all the facts, and I hope that your trust in us has not been completely eradicated."

Harry was shocked. Professor Snape, the bat of the dungeons, the member of staff who had mercilessly bullied him throughout potions all last year, had just apologised to him. Was he imagining it? Had he dropped into an alternate reality? No, he had heard correctly. He had just received an apology from Snape.

It meant a great deal to Harry that Snape had done that. They had been wrong. Dumbledore had unfairly punished him (that ruler really had hurt, it wasn't like serving a couple of detentions with Filch), they had treated him as an untrustworthy liar. But now, here was an apology. All the hurt and distrust of Snape disappeared when he'd spoken those words. He had admitted he'd been wrong.

Harry managed to nod, and realising a non-verbal answer really wasn't going to cut it, forgave him out loud.

"It's OK, sir. I'm just happy it's over. When you said you knew it was Dudley it was like it stopped raining in my head. I didn't realise it'd got to me that much until suddenly I feel so much lighter. Thank you for caring enough to investigate."

Snape inclined his head, relieved his apology had been accepted. He was shocked the boy had forgiven him so quickly. James Potter certainly wouldn't have done. But then, as Severus had to remind himself of often, Harry was not James. He was Lily's son. Hopefully he hadn't irrevocably damaged the small, tentative relationship they'd built. Time would tell.

"Now, I believe we have one last matter to attend to. I believe you left the school grounds without permission today and went to Hogsmeade." said Snape, softly. He didn't need to be unkind, the boy had known this was coming at some point.

Harry nodded. "A verbal answer please."

" Yes sir."

"Very well."

If Snape was honest with himself he would concede that he was reluctant to punish him for going to Hogsmeade. The boy deserved to be punished - sneaking out, disobeying rules, putting himself in potential danger with no-one knowing where he was. But Snape knew why he'd gone out, and that Harry had been seriously misjudged recently and had received a much harsher punishment. All in all he deserved a certain amount of leniency. Flitwick was right. He was going soft.

"Harry, the last Slytherin I caught out of school grounds had a very long conversation over my knee." Harry gulped. "However, given the punishment you received earlier in the week, I hope that you will use a week's detention with Mr. Filch as a suitable reminder to stay on school property. If you do not think this will be sufficient, I can oblige you with a different kind of reminder." he raised an eyebrow at Harry who quickly shook his head,

"No, sir, I won't leave school property again without permission."

"Then let that be a lesson to you." said Snape. "You are forgiven, Harry." he said in much gentler tones.

Snape glanced meaningfully over towards his door, "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, sir." and with that, Harry left Snape's office.

Severus crossed his office and went through the door to his study. He walked over to the cabinet in the corner of the room, opened it, poured himself a drink and went to sit in his armchair. He slowly nursed his drink while thinking of Lily. He hoped he would have had her forgiveness for how he'd treated her son this last week, and hoped that one day, he might even forgive himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Friends will be Friends

While Harry was in Snape's office, Professor McGonagall was in the Gryffindor common room explaining to the second year boys that unless they were sleeping, they were not to spend time socialising in their dorm room for the remainder of the evening and all of tomorrow until breakfast on Tuesday.

"But why, professor?" Neville asked.

"You may get anything you need from your dorm, I am not refusing you entry up there, however, Mr. Dursley has been suspended for a day and will be spending his time alone."

"What did he do?" asked Ron, shocked and concerned.

"That is none of your business. If he wishes to tell you, he may, but otherwise, do not pester him. I'm sure you would appreciate the same courtesy if it were you." replied McGonagall uncharacteristically coldly. With that, she turned and left the common room.

She was not in the mood for dealing with accusatory stares from Ronald Weasley, and if he'd said anything to even begin to defend Dursley, she'd have said something hasty that she might regret later. Her temper was on a short fuse this evening. She knew it was because she was feeling exceptionally guilty about Harry. She speak to him tomorrow, she decided.

After Professor McGonagall had left the common room, Ron and Neville had gone straight over to where Hermione and the twins were sitting. Ron threw himself down on the couch next to them making his disgruntlement known.

"What the hell?" said Ron, "Dudley got suspended for a day! What's that about?"

"Karma." said George with satisfaction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Ron.

The others exchanged a look, and Hermione shook her head. They hadn't spoken to Harry since the feast the day before. The twins had gone looking for him a couple of times but hadn't found him. They presumed he'd wanted to be alone and was either hiding in his dorm, Slytherin common room, or somewhere they hadn't looked. Apart from feeling like they'd escaped the firing squad while talking to Snape in the morning, the twins didn't know anything else. Without knowing what they should and shouldn't say about Harry they all remained quiet.

"It means I think Dudley isn't a nice person and deserves whatever has happened to him." said George.

"You're just jealous because I've got a friend that's not my inseparable twin!" said Ron acidly, and with that stood up and stalked out of the common room.

"It's after curfew, so I can't go find Harry," said Hermione. "but perhaps I can get Professor McGonagall to tell me something. I can hardly ask Harry at breakfast, that'd be far too embarrassing." so she left the common room to head to McGonagall's office.

Knocking on the door of the office, she reflected this really was a stupid thing to be doing. Like her head of house was going to share what'd happened to another student! But Hermione cared for Harry. Perhaps it's the Gryffindor in me, the girl thought.

"Come in." said McGonagall. Hermione entered nervously.

"Miss Granger, what can I do for you?" said Minerva, more sharply than she should have done. Hermione took a breath.

"We were wondering if Harry's OK." said Hermione.

Minerva heard a lot of unsaid things in that sentence. Things like 'We're Harry's friends and we care', 'You falsely accused and punished Harry for something he didn't do' and 'We know Dudley did it - just admit it.'

"Miss Granger, tell me, when did you decide Harry was innocent." Minerva wanted to know how badly she'd misjudged Harry, and wasn't sure she was going to like the answer.

"Harry was never guilty." said Hermione, without a pause.

"Did you ever suspect Mr. Dursley of framing Mr. Potter for anything?"

Hermione looked at the floor, her guilt coming to the surface, shook her head, and murmured "Not until yesterday. Harry said it was Dudley, but I... I didn't believe him." Hermione's voice cracked just a touch.

For some reason that made Minerva feel just a little bit better. Not much though. But at least she wasn't the only person feeling guilty about not seeing the duplicity of Mr. Dursley. She was however the only person in the room who hadn't listened to Harry when he'd said he was innocent, and she was finding that very hard to deal with that. She had been the boy's head of house, yet she hadn't believed him.

Hermione carried on, a little more confident that she'd get an answer, "So did Dudley frame Harry with Polyjuice?"

Minerva nodded.

"And go to Hogsmeade as Harry?"

Minerva nodded again.

"And so Dudley's been suspended?"

There was a pause, "Yes, Miss. Granger."

"May I sit with Harry at breakfast tomorrow?"

Again a nod. "Good night, Miss. Granger." and Hermione left the office at the obvious dismissal to report back to Neville and the twins.

Next morning, Hermione was both happy to see Harry and nervous. If she'd believed him about Dudley being so horrible earlier, would any of this have happened? Could she have stopped Dudley framing Harry? Could she have found a way to defend her friend? She awkwardly approached Harry at the Slytherin table. Harry was surprised to see her at his table and made room for her giving a quick glance to the head table. Snape had seen her sit down, but he turned to continue talking with Professor Flitwick.

"I'm sorry, Harry." blurted out Hermione, the three words tripping over themselves in their haste to be said.

"What for?" asked Harry, confused.

"For not believing you about your cousin."

"Hermione. You believed I was innocent. That's all that matters to me. At one point I even thought I was going crazy thinking it must have been him. I just couldn't prove it. There's nothing to forgive."

Hermione gave Harry a hug. "You're such a kind person, you know." she said.

Harry felt awkward, especially as the Slytherins had seen him get hugged, so he moved the conversation along.

"He's been suspended." said Harry, unwilling to share anything else about Dudley's punishment.

"I know. McGonagall told us. The boy's aren't allowed in the dorm for the day."

And that was all that needed to be said between them both. They moved on to talk about classes and general day to day things. Theodore even joined in their conversation at that point.

The twins saw Hermione talking to Harry at breakfast at the Slytherin table when they entered the great hall and so they went to goad Ron about having the wrong friends.

"What's it like picking the losing side, little brother?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ron non-plussed.

"Well, we assume Dursley told you why he was suspended." said Fred.

Ron didn't say anything. Last night when he'd gone to bed, fortunately he'd not been caught out of the tower after curfew when he'd stormed off, Dudley had been awake but he hadn't answered any of Ron's questions. Not what he'd done, or who'd caught him or anything. He'd just been lying on his bed, propped up on his elbows staring at his pillow angrily. Ron had stopped prying and gone to sleep.

"Merlin, Fred! He doesn't know!" said George, deliberately gleefully to annoy his younger brother.

"George! I think you're right. Our little brother perhaps needs educating." said Fred in the same irritating way. "It's like this," said Fred, suddenly serious, "Dudley went to Hogsmeade on Saturday. He followed us down the passage we went through."

"Thanks for telling him what were up to, by the way." interjected George sarcastically.

"Without me?" asked Ron.

"Yes, without you. But that's not what will have got him suspended." said Fred. "He went disguised as Harry."

Ron sat there with his mouth open.

The twins didn't explain everything. They didn't tell Ron about anything to do with what had happened earlier in the week. They were unsure of all the details. Harry hadn't been very forthcoming, and they didn't want to embarrass Harry by telling Ron that Harry had been punished by the headmaster. So they left their explanation at Hogsmeade. If Harry wanted to tell Ron anything else, that was Harry's right, not theirs.

Ron was still sitting there with his mouth open.

Ron was shocked, confused and hurt. Dudley hadn't taken him with him to Hogsmeade. Ron had told Dudley about the twins' way into the village and Dudley had gone, but hadn't taken him with him. It was like the beginning of the year all over again. Harry was Ron's best friend, yet Harry had accepted being sorted into Slytherin. Harry had abandoned him. His cousin hadn't been as bad as Harry had said. How bad can a person be who socked Crabbe so beautifully in the nose of the train? But now, Dudley had gone without him to Hogsmeade. Why did his friends keep excluding him?

Ron stood up, angry and upset. It was all so unfair! He stalked out of the great hall without a word, going early to his first class.

* * *

On Mondays, Harry had Transfiguration. He went to class and sat in his usual seat at the front. Professor McGonagall entered and started their lesson. They were transforming rabbits into slippers. McGonagall had gone around everyone's bench by the time the lesson ended, except his. Once or twice she'd glanced over at him and looked away, her cheeks changing colour slightly. Harry was saddened by this. His head of house - he still thought of her that way sometimes - wasn't even looking at him, never mind speaking to him. Harry glumly started to pack up his things at the end of the lesson. He was the last person to leave.

"Harry." Harry looked up. Professor McGonagall was standing next to him. He looked up at her. He'd never seen her look sad before. Strict yes, annoyed, certainly. And he couldn't forget the look of disappointment she'd given him on Wednesday last week. But never sad.

"I'm sorry, Harry." she said simply.

It was amazing how three simple words could lighten Harry's heart. She believed him. She was no longer disappointed in him. Everything was right again. Harry smiled.

"Thank you."

It was Minerva's turn to smile. She looked relieved too, there was suddenly less tightness about her eyes. "Don't be late for your next lesson, Mr. Potter," she said with a twitch of her lips, as she turned away to prepare her next lesson.

After class, Harry went to the quidditch practice pitch with Hermione, Neville and the twins. Hermione and Neville weren't flying, but they wanted to be with Harry. The three boys had been flying for around half an hour, passing a quaffle to each other when Ron arrived, looking awkward. Harry and the twins flew over to where Ron was with Hermione and Neville.

"Um." said Ron, looking anywhere but Harry's face.

Since coming back to Hogwarts, all Harry had wanted was to be with his friends. Ron was his best friend. He was impetuous and he was easily offended, but Dudley was none of his fault. Neither was Harry getting resorted into Slytherin. It had taken less than one day of not being influenced by Dudley for Ron to seek out Harry. A part of Harry felt guilty. If Harry had gone to the Fat Lady and asked to speak with Ron the first night, would any of this happened? Harry shook that thought off - it wasn't worth thinking about the might have beens.

"Want to come fly?" Harry asked.

The look of relief on Ron's face was obvious. He nodded as if words were hard. The four boys went to fly for a while longer. Harry had fun. When he had quidditch practice with Slytherin, he was happy to be flying on his broom, but this, this was pure joy. Just to be out with his friends. Sure, things got a little silly - George nearly planted himself into the ground showing off his attempt at a Wronski Feint - if McGonagall had been watching they'd have all been banned from flying for eternity. But Harry didn't care one bit. The freedom and joy of being with his friends again made his heart pound in his chest. They flew until it was dark and then went to the great hall for dinner. Harry didn't push his luck though - he went to eat with Slytherin.

They all trooped up to the library after dinner and found a quiet corner away from everyone else. Although they had to be quiet, they could hold a whispered conversation.

"Harry," said Ron, looking anywhere but Harry again, "I'm sorry I got in a huff with you about the twins pranking Dudley." Ron gave the twins a hard look. Fred opened his mouth to explain that ton-tongue toffee was the least the whale deserved, when George elbowed him in the ribs. "I was angry that you'd been resorted and I thought that we couldn't be friends anymore and I took that out on you."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Ron kept talking.

"The twins told me this morning that Dudley went to Hogsmeade. I was angry that he hadn't taken me. We're friends, he and I." Fred opened his mouth and got elbowed by Hermione this time.

"Ron," said Harry, "Dudley has always done what he wanted, he doesn't take other people's feelings into account."

Harry wanted to say more, a lot more, but Ron had just said 'We're friends.', not 'We were friends.' Harry knew that he was treading on thin ice. Ron didn't know about Dudley and the staff common room in any way. Harry thought about just telling Ron everything, explaining (again) that Dudley was a complete arse, that he'd framed Harry, not with no thought for the consequences, but deliberately to get Harry into trouble. But Harry was embarrassed. He hadn't told Hermione or the twins what had happened in detail either. They knew Dudley had taken his wand and done something looking like him, but not what. They knew Harry had been spanked by Dumbledore, although Ron didn't, but he'd not elaborated. He far was too embarrassed. Embarrassed that Dudley could have been so manipulative. The years that Harry had lived at Privet Drive should have served as practice at recognising Dudley's nastiness, but he hadn't seen it coming. So Harry said nothing to disabuse Ron of exactly how horrible Dudley was. One day though, though t Harry, Dudley would slip up and Ron would find out for himself.

Harry had had the best day of his school year today. He'd eaten breakfast with Hermione, received renewed support from Professor McGonagall, and spent a happy hour flying with his friends. He wasn't going to spoil it by having an argument with Ron about his cousin. Harry thought he was being kind.

Fred gave Harry a look. It spoke volumes. It said, "Tell him, moron."

Fred received looks off everyone else, that said, "It's Harry's choice. Don't you dare tell him." Fred caved.

When curfew was approaching, they returned to their respective common rooms. In Gryffindor, Ron briefly went up to his dorm to collect his Potions book to write an essay for the next day.

"Did you have fun flying?" asked Dudley, unable to not sound acerbic.

"How did you know?" asked Ron, "And what do you care what I do?" he added nastily.

"I saw you out of the tower window." replied Dudley, "and you've got the wrong idea."

"About what?"

"I didn't mean to leave you behind when I went to Hogsmeade. It was just that I had to follow your brothers right then else I'd lose them. There wasn't time to go back for you. I brought you sweets back. I know it's not much of a consolation prize, and it'd have been much more fun with you, but I just had to go. In preparation for next time."

"And who would I have gone as, Hermione?" demanded Ron crossly.

"That was an accident. I thought that I'd got one of Lee Jordan's hairs in the Polyjuice - he's dark like Harry, and I didn't realise because I couldn't see myself."

"What the hell were you doing with Polyjuice anyway? When were you going to share that with me?"

"My folks sent me it, but shhh, don't tell anyone, I don't want to get my family in bother." Ron shrugged and nodded at that, "I was going to tell you next weekend. I thought we could test it out together and try to sneak into the other common rooms for a laugh." said Dudley.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I didn't think. If I'd known you'd be upset I wouldn't have done it."

Ron's problem was that he was far too forgiving. In a family the size of his, you couldn't hold a grudge, there wasn't the space in the Burrow, so when people apolgised, you moved on. He was angry at what Dudley had done, but he had sounded sincere just now, and Ron was mollified.

"We're good." said Ron. "I've got to go, before I get into trouble for being up here."

"Of course." said Dudley amicably, as Ron turned and left. Dudley had realised when they were talking that no-one had told Ron about his first use of Polyjuice, else even though Dudley could probably have laid out Ron in one punch, if Ron had found out what had happened Dudley wouldn't have stood a chance. He further reasoned that if they hadn't it was because for some reason, Harry wanted it that way. Either the twins and the bookworm didn't know, or they did and weren't going to tell Ron. Either way, that suited Dudley. Ron was necessary as a friend. Like Piers was. Someone to use when needed.

Dudley sat back down on his bed and immediately regretted it and rolled over. Harry was going to pay for Dudley getting caught. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd only got detentins with filch. It was the principle that counted.

* * *

On Wednesday, after class Ron came up to the library with the rest of them. The day before, Harry had been disappointed to see Ron with Dudley at breakfast and again with him in Potions. However Potions had been the best Potions lesson Harry had ever been in. Harry tried to imprint bits of it on his memory in indelible ink. Snape had been magnificent. It must have been how Malfoy saw Potions last year, Harry thought, only instead of Malfoy enjoying Harry being the object of Snape's wrath, Harry was enjoying Dudley being in Snape's sights. Snape was his cutting best. Condescending, picky, tyrannical, vicious, vindictive, any word you'd care to choose.

Dudley's fatal error was in trying for retribution towards Harry too soon. And during Potions. Dudley tried to launch a firework into Harry's cauldron when no-one was looking. Unfortunately he missed and it landed in Neville's cauldron, which promptly exploded, coating the boy in hair-raising potion. After Snape had dispatched Neville to Madame Pomfrey, he didn't even ask who did it.

"Mr. Dursley, detention, every Tuesday straight after classes for the remainder of term."

"I didn't do anything!" said Dudley in protest.

"My classroom is not a democracy. You do not get a say. Do not be late." And with that, he carried on teaching. No-one tried to stick up for Dudley. A couple of students had seen him throw the firework, so even though Snape couldn't prove anything himself right there and then, if he'd been bothered he could have made others tell him what happened.

The upshot of this was that Ron accompanied them up to the library every Tuesday after classes for the remainder of term without fail.

"It's odd Snape giving detention straight after class. He usually times it to inconvenience students most by taking their evenings off them. It's a shorter detention this way." said George, a bit confused.

Harry thought about this. Was it deliberate? Did Snape want Harry to be with his friends? He shook his head - it must be a co-incidence.

That same evening, after dinner, Harry was in the common room reading on his own on one of the couches. His head of house was doing a circuit of the common room seemingly idly talking to students about the homework that they were doing. He's a good head of house, thought Harry. He cares about whether we do the work. Snape came over to where Harry was and talked quietly,

"Have you finished your homework, Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded.

"Very well. Now, you are not in trouble, but the headmaster wishes to speak with you in his office." Harry made a face. He couldn't hide the hurt and anger he still felt towards Dumbledore.

"He only wishes to see you. It was not an order. But please, choose to speak with him."

"You don't ask much, do you?" said Harry acidly, forgetting for a moment from his tone to whom he was speaking. Snape raised an eyebrow. Harry gulped. "Sorry."

"You might find it helps, Harry." he said gently, with the last word quietly said so that no-one else could possibly overhear him call Harry by name. And with that, Snape returned to his study for the evening.

Harry read his book for a bit longer, but kept getting distracted. He was annoyed with himself that he couldn't' ignore the request. He kept thinking there was somewhere he should be. He'd snap out of that line of thinking and read and bit more of his book, but at one point, when he'd read the same sentence for the third time, he gave up, huffed, threw the book on the couch and left the common room.

Harry walked through the school annoyed with himself for complying. He knocked on the headmaster's door and waited for a response, hoping their wouldn't be one.

"Come in." Harry entered, suddenly nervous of all things. Dumbledore looked up from the papers he was working on.

Harry tried to decide what the expression on Dumbledore's face was. Guilt? No. Although it bloody should have been, Harry thought. Sadness? No. Regret? Maybe that was it. Dumbledore was unreadable.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, "Lemon drop?" Harry shook his head. He wasn't quite in the mood to share Dumbledore's sweets. "Please, have a seat."

Harry took one of the seats in front of Dumbledore's desk. He couldn't stop his eyes lingering on the desk. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Harry," said Dumbledore heavily, "I can only say I am sorry."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. There was a part of him full of rage, that just wanted to scream at him that he hadn't checked his facts, that he hadn't listened. Harry quelled that part. There was a part that wanted to burst into tears at the complete lack of trust the headmaster had shown in him. He wasn't about to show that part either. What was Harry meant to say? That he forgave him?

He'd forgiven Snape, he'd been the first person to believe him about Dudley, to look out for him, to investigate. He'd cared about Harry this year, and although things were going to be a bit awkward for a while, it'd be OK in the end.

He'd forgiven Professor McGonagall. She'd been duped by Dudley. He'd made himself seem whiter than white. She hadn't had as much to do with Harry this year. But she'd been genuinely upset on Monday in class.

But Dumbledore was different. He didn't seem genuinely remorseful. He didn't make a habit of accusing students of things they didn't do, but it just seemed to Harry that Dumbledore's apology was perfunctory. Did Dumbledore really care? Or was Harry just another student?

But then, did it matter? In all probability, next time a student was accused of something, someone would probably check more carefully.

From all the emotions that Harry had running round his head, despondency won out. He shrugged.

"Thank you." he said simply, not really bothered whether Dumbledore's apology was genuine or not, and not bothered whether Dumbledore cared if his apology was well received. What had happened had happened. And nothing could make it go away.

"Is that all, sir? May I go?"

"Yes, Harry." Dumbledore replied.

There it was, thought Harry, looking at Dumbledore's eyes, just a hint of something. Surprise? Disappointment? Maybe he cared just a little bit. Harry left his office and went back to the common room.

* * *

On Friday of that week the twins caught up with Harry on the corridor on his way to class after breakfast.

"You'll love Lockhart's classroom, Harry. We've done it just for you." said Fred quietly in his ear, and ran off. Harry was a little apprehensive as he continued on to DADA. But when he got to the room, he, like every other Slytherin there, and many students in the corridor, was nearly in tears with laughter. Lockhart's room had been redecorated. It was blue. All blue. The walls, ceiling, floor, desks, chairs, everything was blue. Lockhart's desk was blue and furry. And Lockhart, in contrast, was bright red. He was remonstrating with a house-elf, demanding to know why his room was blue.

"But Professor Lockhart, sir, you asked for it this way."

"I did no such thing!"

"But sir, your signature is on the order form for classroom redecoration, see?" said the elf, a parchment appearing magically it its hand.

"That's not my signa... oh." said Lockhart, and peered at it a little closer. At that moment Dumbledore arrived, he always seemed to know when there was a commotion somewhere in his school.

"Gilderoy, whatever is that matter? Beautiful room, by the way, I think I might have gone with green, personally." he said with merriment printed clearly on his face.

"Headmaster, the house-elves have redecorated my room. They say that I signed the order form. I did no such thing! This is a forgery." he said angrily waving the order form under Albus' nose.

"May I see it?" asked the headmaster, holding out his hand. Lockhart passed him the parchment. Albus carefully looked at the signature and then waved his wand over the parchment. The signature coloured a glittery blue for a moment and then returned to its usual black.

"No, Gilderoy, I'm afraid that this is, indeed, your signature. Perhaps, like I explained to you on Monday, you should take better care over what you sign." he said with a certain amount of satisfaction. "Good day, professor." and with that turned and left.

For the remainder of the day, Lockhart had to teach in a blue classroom, until the elves put it right during the night. After class Harry hurried to the library. He could have hugged the twins.

"What did you do? How did you know? I never told you any details of anything." Snape had explained to Harry what Dudley had done in detail in their weekly meeting that Wednesday, but Harry hadn't shared the details with his friends.

"We were out and about, like we do, on Monday evening after curfew and happened past Lockhart's classroom. He was getting a proper dressing down from Dumbledore. Dumbledore was telling him in no uncertain terms to watch what he signed, because he had been careless enough to sign for Polyjuice. We put two and two together and came up with blue." explained George happily.

"Just for you, little brother." said Fred at Harry affectionately. And that was just one of the reasons why Harry loved the twins so much.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Flying

Saturday of that week was the first quidditch match of the year - Gryffindor versus Slytherin. It was raining hard when they went out to the pitch. The Slytherin team all had Nimbus 2001s, but Harry had stuck with his own broom. He liked it and the performance at the level he was playing at was only marginally better on the Nimbus 2001. But most of all, it was his. It had been a gift from someone who believed in his abilities. It had given him freedom and joy and had been the source of some of his favourite time at Hogwarts.

The team had Malfoy on it as a beater, but neither Crabbe nor Goyle. Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs was the chasers, Peregrine Derrick the other beater and Miles Bletchley was the keeper. Adrian had been annoyed with Marcus about Malfoy being on the team, he clearly felt that Lucian Bole was the better player of the two. They'd had an argument in the common room, enough that the prefect had put up a silencing charm around the pair. When they'd finished arguing, Adrian had stalked off, clearly having lost and Malfoy had been chosen for the game. The last thing Harry heard Marcus say to Malfoy as Harry kicked off from the ground was a stern warning, "Do not mess this up, or next match you will not play, whatever anyone else says."

They'd been playing only a couple of minutes, the rain heavy, when Harry had to duck and dive to avoid a bludger. But the bludger wouldn't leave him alone. Peregrine had to nearly stick to him for the next ten minutes, just to keep Harry from getting flattened by it. Flint called a time out when he noticed that Peregrine was staying too close to Harry.

"Derrick, what the hell's going on? The twins could have taken Adrian out with a bludger a moment ago. You're supposed to be guarding everyone, not just the Seeker you know!" and he then rounded on Malfoy, "And you, stop preening yourself and start playing!"

"There's something up with that bludger - it's been chasing Harry," said Peregrine crossly.

"So whack it harder towards a Gryffindor and then stay out of its way!" retorted Flint, the timeout over.

Harry made sure to avoid the bludger as soon as he took to the skies and that seemed to work for a while, but once again, it locked on to him and seemingly him alone. At one point he had to hang sloth-like under his broom to avoid it from taking his head off.

"Nice sloth impression, Harry!" George called out merrily, flying past. "Such beautiful new techniques you've learnt in Slytherin!"

"Ha ha!" said Harry flatly, "This bloody bludger's trying to kill me!" George looked a bit more carefully and realised the bludger was indeed circling towards Harry again. George intercepted it, sent it flying way across to the other side of the pitch and flew over to Malfoy, "Way to do your job there, Malfoy."

"Get lost, Weasley!"

"Malfoy, tail Potter, keep the damn bludger off him!" yelled Flint, who'd been more attentive to the bludger and Harry since the game had continued after the time out. Malfoy pulled a face and lazily circling up to where Harry was.

The problem was, Malfoy just wasn't very good. Time and again Harry had to take remedial evasive action to prevent himself from being knocked off his broom. At least twice more one of the twins had also had to save Harry. But the only way for the match to stop was for the snitch to be caught.

Harry looked as hard as he could for it. With the twins keeping half an eye on him he felt a lot safer, and kept close to the twins while keeping an eye out for the snitch. Angelina Johnson had become the Gryffindor Seeker as she'd been on the team last year, and they had a new Chaser, but Angelina wasn't used to playing Seeker, and hadn't been moving round the pitch searching, she kept sticking to chaser positions.

Just as Harry was getting numb with cold, he saw the snitch down near the ground. He yelled to Malfoy to follow, knowing he'd easily outpace Angelina to reach it even if she knew what he was doing. He dropped like a stone and the snitch knew that the chase was on. Harry darted and weaved between the players keeping his eyes firmly on the snitch. He just had to trust that Malfoy was with him keeping the bludger away - he'd seen the boy react when he called out. The Gryffindor team had all seen the bludger go crazy and wanted the game to be over just as much as Harry. Angelina joined the fray and Harry and Angelina chased down the snitch. Angelina had improved over the summer, thought Harry, and could keep up well, but in the turns she was slow. The rogue bludger nearly took her head off in its attempt to get to Harry and only a well-placed Weasley saved them both.

Within a metre of the snitch, Harry put his arm out to reach it. Closer, closer, closer, his fingertips grasped a wing when he was hit full on his left shoulder by the bludger, and the force of the impact knocked him off his broom.

It was lucky he had been only five metres above the ground. He landed flat on his back, the air driven out of his lungs. His left shoulder and arm were numb. He didn't feel it land underneath him, nor his own weight crush his wrist. In his other hand the snitch flapped limply.

As cheering erupted from the Slytherin stands Madame Pomfrey was making her way towards Harry at a dead run. But she was beaten to him by Professor Snape who Harry had never seen look so worried. Madame Pomfrey was examining his arm, but was interrupted with, "Stand back,..." from Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

Lockhart had his wand out, but suddenly couldn't use it as he'd suddenly become cross-eyed looking at Snape's want that was nearly jammed up his left nostril. "The only way you're medically treating any of my Slytherins is over my dead body." said Snape dangerously.

"Ah... right... well.." Lockhart blustered and backed away.

Madame Pomfrey had made sure Harry had only broken his wrist before helping him stand and escorting him to the hospital wing. They were surrounded by both teams, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.

Harry heard raised voices behind him.

"Oi, Flint, sort your bloody team out. Harry might not be on my team any more, but the least we would of done was not got him knocked off his broom by a bludger!" Harry recognised the voice of Oliver Wood, and Harry felt his heart warm. Oliver still cared.

Marcus took the reprimand well though, "I can assure you, I will be having a very sharp word or two with a particular member of my team." he said fixing Malfoy with a look.

"I can think of two words I could use..." started Fred, before Professor McGonagall interrupted.

"Mr. Weasley!"

"Misters Weasley," said Professor Snape as Harry and Madame Pomfrey had reached the door of the infirmary, "this may be a first, however, I wish to thank you for looking out for Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor. Each." and with that he entered the infirmary and closed the door behind him. Everyone else had stopped mid-stride in the corridor in shock with their mouths open, including Professor McGonagall.

Harry was released from the infirmary that afternoon, and there had been a party in the Slytherin common room. Harry didn't think of the Slytherins as people to have fun, but they did. They didn't get as raucous as Gryffindor, and there wasn't as much overeating and sugar involved, but it had certainly been a fun party. Malfoy had been absent though. Harry didn't know whether that had been voluntary or whether he'd been uninvited.

While the team clearly needed practice, Marcus had told them that there wouldn't be any practices for the next two weeks. He wanted everyone completely refreshed and to make sure that all their work was caught up and of top notch quality. One of the stipulations for being on the team was that their schoolwork had to be at least an Acceptable. If you got any worse than that on any piece of work, that was your one and only warning. After that, you were no longer on the team. Harry had found this easy to maintain. With his homework done in the library with his friends and also in his Slytherin study group he easily made the grade.

Although they'd been given a couple of weeks off, Harry loved flying. Flint had no problem with the team members just being out on their brooms - he'd not banned them from flying, just cancelled practices. So this was why on the Tuesday after the game, Harry had gone out to fly. He loved it, just to feel the wind in his hair and to be away from everyone. He was used to being alone at Privet Drive, and sharing a dorm meant that there was precious little time to ever be truly alone. He wouldn't have swapped his friend for the world, but occasionally he just needed the peace and quiet.

So after dinner he went out to fly. He'd done his homework before dinner with Hermione and Neville and he just didn't want to be in the stuffy common room. It'd been a rainy week and with everyone stuck inside the atmosphere was getting a bit tense. It started to rain again while he was in the air but he'd only been out fifteen minutes and wanted longer to clear his head. The rain grew heavier and the wind got up. After forty minutes he started to feel cold, his fingers beginning to numb through his gloves, so he landed. He was soaked to the skin. Knowing that if he walked into the common room looking like that he would get a lecture off first Flint and then from his head of house, he decided to get a hot shower in the quidditch team dressing rooms and perform a drying spell on his jumper and trousers so he could get back to his dorm without censure.

He stripped off his clothes, grabbed a spare towel from one of the clothes pegs and left his broom with his things while he spent a very luxurious ten minutes soaking under the hot shower head.

When he had got out and dried off, he suddenly realised his broom was missing. He could have sworn it was with his things. He looked high and low, looking everywhere in the changing rooms. It was nowhere in sight. He went outside to check the practice field, and there in the middle he saw a broom-sized object.

He hurried over and looked in horror at the broom in front of his eyes. It was his alright. But it had been broken beyond repair. The handle had been cut into three sections, and most of the bristles had been pulled out and snapped like the twigs they were.

Harry was devastated. He sank to the cold wet ground, gathered the pieces of his broken broom in his arms and wept. Half an hour had gone by before he returned to the common room. Most students were still about, doing their homework, or quietly reading or playing chess. Harry was carrying the bits of his broom.

Theo called to him from across the room,

"Hi Harry, what have you got there?"

Suddenly all eyes were on him - Theo hadn't called out quietly. Harry must have looked a sight. He was soaking wet again from being in the middle of the field. His face was red and blotchy, and he was carrying a pile of bedraggled twigs that had once been his broom.

He just stood there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to speak. He wanted to run away but there was nowhere to run to. Marcus came to his rescue. As Marcus approached, he realised what Harry was holding.

"Merlin, Harry, what happened?" Harry's eyes met his, his mouth opened and nothing came out. Marcus put a hand on his shoulder and steered him gently back out the way he came in and down the corridor to Snape's office. Marcus knocked on the door. On being told to enter he nudged Harry forward and into Snape's office.

"What in the name of Merlin, Potter," Snape started seeing the bedraggled mess in front of him, then he checked himself on taking in Harry's face properly. "Thank you, Mr. Flint," he said in polite dismissal.

"Sir." responded Flint, leaving quietly.

Snape took the bundle of broom out of Harry's arms and put it on the spare desk in the corner of his office. It was beyond repair. Snape was no expert on brooms, but he knew what trashed looked like. He summoned a big, fluffy towel and put it around Harry's shoulders and escorted him into his study. He put him in one of the comfy chairs by the fire and summoned an elf to bring a hot chocolate.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked. Harry shook his head and stared at the fire. He was saved from Snape demanding a verbal response by the elf bringing him the hot chocolate. Harry absentmindedly noticed it had marshmallows in it. He held the cup in both hands to get warmth back into his fingers. He took a sip from the cup and felt the warm liquid slide down his throat.

The potions master waited until he'd taken a few more mouthfuls and looked a bit less blue in the nose, lips and fingers before trying again.

"Harry, talk to me. What happened? Are you injured?" While harry was drinking he'd run a practised eye over him and found nothing untoward . Harry shook his head. Ignoring the silent response in favour of getting an explanation, Snape repeated himself.

"Then tell me what happened. You went to the practice field, yes?" Harry nodded. Snape looked like one more silent response might just be the tipping point, so Harry elaborated.

"I went to fly. I know it's not the best evening for it and I know it's dark outside, but I wanted to clear my head. I flew for a bit, felt cold and went for a hot shower in the quidditch changing rooms. It was supposed to stop me returning here looking like a drowned rat." said Harry with a slight sad twitch of his lips, appreciating that there was a touch of dark humour there, given his current state.

"Then what happened?"

"When I got out of the shower my broom was gone. I'd left it by my things. I looked for it everywhere, then I went to look on the field, and there it was in pieces."

Harry looked ready to cry again. Merlin, what's is wrong with me? It's just a broom, I can order another, thought Harry, giving himself a mental shake.

But it's not, said another part of him. It was a gift, a real gift from someone who cared. It represented his freedom, and that he was good at something. It was one of the few things that could still bring him genuine joy. A place to escape the world.

Harry had dried out while in front of the fire. Snape had sat down in the chair across from him when the elf had brought the hot chocolate. Snape reached forward and put a hand tentatively on his knee.

"Look at me Harry." Harry's emerald eyes met Snape's. "I promise that this act will not go unpunished. I will do everything in my power to find the culprit. The Nimbus 2001 gifted to the team that was reserved for the Seeker is now yours. I know it is not the same as your broom. Your broom was yours - special, I am aware of it's significance to you, but you need a broom."

"Now, you are tired, and you need some rest." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he had to stifle a yawn. Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Come, Harry." And with that, Snape escorted him to the door of the common room. "One last thing, Harry," said Snape checking that no-one else was in earshot, "This time I will let it go, however, if you go out to fly on a dark, rainy, windy night, with no-one with you ever again, I will give Mr. Flint permission to put you over his knee!" Harry stared at him his eyed wide in shock. He wouldn't! Looking at Snape's face though, Harry saw nothing but deadly seriousness.

"Good night, Harry." said Snape in softer tones, and stalked away down the corridor, his robes billowing behind him.

"Good night, sir." was the whispered reply that Snape probably didn't hear.

* * *

"It is not good enough, Albus!" exclaimed Snape loudly in Dumbledore's office.

"I understand what you're saying, Severus, but what would you have me do?" replied Dumbledore in exasperated tones, "He was out on his own with no one to witness what happened. What would you like to do? Should we fetch the student you assume is guilty and accuse him? What if he says he's not? Would you punish him anyway?" Dumbledore looking deeply into Snape's eyes, and Severus coloured slightly.

"I thought not." said Dumbledore quietly.

Severus was standing in front of the headmaster's desk remonstrating over Harry's destroyed property.

"But Albus, you cannot let that boy get away with this, he is just continuing where he left off!" said Snape angrily, putting his hands on the desk and leaning in towards Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked down at Snape's hands pointedly. Snape removed them from the desk as if they'd been burnt, however his tone did not diminish.

"It is unfair on Harry! He has put up with enough! I do not care how you fix this, but I will not have a member of my house bullied at will when we are all aware of what is happening. I will not let this go on under my very nose!"

Dumbledore's eye's twinkled, "So it's Harry now is it?"

"Do not change the subject, Albus, you know very well I look after every member of my house. I will put up with inaction on the Dursley boy for only so long." Snape said, his voice raising in anger.

"Severus, do not do anything precipitous. I will not stand for it." Dumbledore said quietly, but firmly. "Go, you are the master spy, find evidence, protect your house. But remember, do not do anything you shouldn't."

Snape huffed in exasperation, turned and stalked out of the headmaster's office, only just refraining from slamming the door behind him, it was, after all, a teenage habit he deplored.

* * *

When Snape got back to Slytherin, he went into the common room. "Mr. Flint, a word please." Marcus hurried over to his head of house. "I need you to do some investigating. Talk to the other prefects, including those in other houses. Find out if they know if any students went to the quidditch practice pitch tonight. I know it's a long shot, but you might get lucky."

"Yes sir. Is Harry alright?"

"He will be, just give him time. Things can only get better."

Snape had no idea how wrong that statement would turn out to be in the short term.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Getting away with it

The remainder of that week was quiet for Harry. He enjoyed the time he spent in the library with his friends. The subject came up at one point about the rogue bludger, and Harry explained that while he was still in the infirmary, Dobby had appeared and told him that he was the one who closed the barrier at King's Cross and he'd also charmed the bludger at the quidditch game. The elf had said that there was a plot against him and something called the Chamber of Secrets and that Harry shouldn't be at Hogwarts. They all looked a bit confused at that. Harry had hoped that Fred or George being from a wizarding family might know what that meant. They came to the conclusion that the elf was a bit nuts, and they promptly forgot about it. Madame Hooch had even examined the bludger right after the match and couldn't find anything wrong with it, so that matter was considered closed.

Due to the extra time he had given the lack of quidditch practice that week he got his homework done early. That gave him perfect opportunity to read the potions text that he had taken from his head of house. Increasingly Harry felt guilty about taking it, but he reasoned it away as a long term loan. Snape hadn't noticed it was missing and Harry had it in the back of his head that one day he'd return it.

So far, he'd read all the handwritten notes next to the potion instructions in the first few chapters. Every couple of lessons he'd try one of two of them out. He made sure to only try little things that Snape wouldn't notice, or if he did he'd think it was an accident. Things like doing an extra stir when using digitalis, or chopping wormwood roots with a silver knife. He'd had to borrow the knife from Malfoy under the pretense of snapping his own blade, but Malfoy had lent it to him, after all, Slytherin showed a united front in public. That evening, Malfoy hadn't been quite so nice about it, but Harry had been polite and it'd turned out alright in the end.

This week he wanted to try one of the handwritten spells in the margin. He read about Levicorpus and thought it would be hilarious. So he arranged to meet up with the twins to try it out on the deserted third floor corridor where there was a bit of space and no witnesses.

"If this works I'm going to try it out first on Malfoy for not helping you in the quidditch match and then I'm going to hang Dudley out of the Gryffindor tower window." said Fred gleefully.

"No, please, don't do that. We don't know where the spell is from." said Harry. He'd hated lying to the twins but he couldn't give up his source. He'd told them that he'd found it on a piece of parchment stuffed behind the books on the shelf near where they sat in the library. He'd been early up there the other day and claimed he was just sitting staring and saw it through the books and wondered what it was. The twins had believed him. He'd had no reason to lie.

"What's it matter?" asked George.

"Well, have you seen anyone being picked up by one ankle recently? It must have been there a while." said Harry. "We ought to plan carefully how to use it, then no-one else will find out the spell."

"Or we could sell it." said Fred, with a thoughtful voice.

"Hmmm." said George, "That would certainly work. Harry, you'd love to see a couple of friends get on in the world, wouldn't you?" said George with a grin.

"Just get the spell working first." said Harry, glad to have convinced them in the short term to not use it obviously.

"Right, Harry, I'll go down to the far end of the corridor, and you say the incantation." said Fred.

"Le-vi-cor-pus." said Harry and pointed his wand. Nothing happened.

"Try to enunciate it differently," suggested George. "Put the first two syllables together."

"Levi-cor-pus." said Harry. Fred felt the air constrict around him for just a second then there was nothing.

"Nearly," he said, "Try emphasising the 'cor' part."

"Levi-COR-pus." said Harry with conviction.

Fred found himself upside down with his foot nearly touching the ceiling. "Cool! He said. All the blood's rushing to my head."

"Harry, say Finite Incantatem," instructed George. Harry did so and Fred dropped to the floor.

"Ow! We should have brought a pillow." said Fred.

"The was cool." agreed George. Harry nodded.

"Let's go somewhere else before anyone finds us," said Fred. "Quidditch pitch?" The other two nodded and they went outside for the reminder of the afternoon.

Harry was glad that the spell had worked and that the results were fun. He hoped all the spells in the book were just as much fun to do.

Herbology the next week was not as much fun. They'd been told the lesson before that this lesson they would be fitting scarves on the mandrakes. Sprout wanted to do the socks herself as it was fiddly, but the students would be able to do the scarves. The mandrakes would also need repotting as they'd grown too large for their current pots.

They had Herbology after Gryffindor in the greenhouses and Harry took a moment to chat with Hermione and Neville before going inside. He went to his usual workbench.

"Work in pairs. One of you grasp the pot firmly with both hands, and the other pull out the mandrake carefully." said Professor Sprout.

Harry took hold of the pot and Padma tugged at the plant. Harry enjoyed working with Padma. With her twin being in Gryffindor, it gave them common ground to talk about. Herbology was one of the few lessons Harry interacted with another student. When the plant was free of the pot, Harry went to put the pot down on the worktop but the pot was stuck to his hands, both of them.

Padma was urging him to be quick as the plant was getting heavy, but the pot wouldn't budge.

"Professor Sprout..." wailed Padma, nearly dropping the mandrake. Professor Sprout hurried over and rescued the mandrake then turned her attention to Harry.

"Sticking charm?" she queried. With a wave of her wand she cast a Finite Incantatem, but nothing happened. She looked a bit more closely and realised that Harry's hands were literally stuck to the pot.

"Is that glue?" she asked. Every time Harry tried to free his hands, he just pulled the skin on his fingers, he daren't pull hard in case he ripped his skin.

"Infirmary, Mr. Potter." Sprout decided.

On Harry's way up to the infirmary he met Dudley by the main entrance.

"That's a bit of a sticky situation," he said nastily, grinned at Harry and walked away to class. By the time Harry had got up to the infirmary he was nearly in tears. Bloody Dudley again. Could he not just leave him alone?

Harry didn't say much when Madame Pomfrey was trying to free his hands. She tried a number of potions and spells, but none of them unstuck Harry.

"Magic isn't working. Is there something muggle here?" she asked to herself. Harry suddenly felt like the world was too heavy. He realised. Superglue. Dudley used to used it when he made model airplanes when he was younger. He'd placed some on Harry's chair at school one time, and he'd sat in it and had ripped his trousers when he stood up. It was childish, thought Harry, but for some reason that made it so much worse. Dudley could make him feel like this using a childhood prank.

It was at that point Snape arrived. It was lunchtime by now as Madame Pomfrey had been trying for a while to unstick Harry's hands. Snape took one close look at Harry's hands.

"Superglue?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Mr. Dursley?" again Harry nodded.

"Witnesses?"

"What do you think?" replied Harry cattily. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sir." said Harry contritely.

"I'm sorry, Poppy, but magic remedies do not work. The best thing to do is to use a severing charm very carefully between the pot and Harry's hands. It will take a while as you'll only be able to do a little bit at a time without damaging Harry's fingers. Harry, the very top layer of skin on your fingers might feel like it's been scuffed for a couple of days, but I promise, this will not hurt at all. Your hands will be a bit pink, but there will be no lasting damage."

"That sounds a bit drastic, Severus. It there no other way?" said Poppy.

"I'm afraid not. I've had some experience with superglue when I was a child. I used to make models..." Snape broke off, suddenly aware of the concept of oversharing. Poppy had a slight smirk on her face, and Harry was examining his shoes very closely.

It took an hour for Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape to unglue Harry. When they'd done, Snape asked for a moment alone with Harry. Harry was examining the pads of his fingers. They were rough and pink, and quite sensitive, but it hadn't hurt.

"Are you OK, Harry?" Snape asked.

"My fingers are OK, just a bit pink." replied Harry.

"That's not what I meant." Harry had to blink back a tear.

"Why won't he stop?" he asked. His voice cracked a bit. Snape put both his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"Harry, it _will_ be OK. It doesn't seem like it now, but I will personally make sure that Mr. Dursley pays for everything he's ever done to you, however long that takes." said Snape with conviction. "Even if I have to spike his pumpkin juice with veritaserum." he added darkly.

"What's veritaserum?" Harry asked.

"Nothing you need to know about. Put it out of your mind." said Snape awkwardly. Snape wondered to himself if he would actually dose a student with veritaserum. It was an illegal substance. He could easily lose his job over it if found out. We will have to see, thought Snape. If things get bad enough...

Snape still had his hands on Harry's shoulders, and he felt Harry tense. The nearest item to Harry was the plant pot. Harry threw it with force across the room for it to smash against the far wall.

"Why!" yelled Harry angrily. "What did I ever do to him?"

Snape pulled Harry closer to him. A casual observer who'd never met Snape, the bat of the dungeons, might have called it an embrace.

"It will get better Harry. That I promise you."

There was a cough from behind Snape. "I'm sorry, Severus, but Harry will have to go eat some lunch before afternoon classes now. I have no reason to keep him here any longer."

Snape released hold Harry and Harry picked up his bag that a house-elf had fetched for him. He hopped down from the bed he was on and left the infirmary with his head bowed.

Poppy turned to Severus, "I'm surprised he's in one piece after that display of teenage angst. I didn't have you down as a patient man."

"I'm very concerned about Harry. He bottles up his feelings too much. Good day, Poppy." Snape abruptly ended his conversation and left the infirmary.

He hoped Poppy didn't think him rude, but he didn't want to talk about Harry with her. He was more than a little concerned. Harry was a fireworks factory waiting to explode. Every time Dudley did something to Harry and wasn't found out, Severus knew there was a little bit more rage pent up inside the boy. One day it was going to burst out. Snape fervently hoped it didn't result in anyone getting hurt.

In the library that afternoon his friends noticed the state of his fingers. Fred and George promised dire retribution. Harry just hoped they wouldn't get caught. The twins were capable of doing some really clever and nasty things when they put their minds to it. Part of Harry couldn't wait to find out what they'd do. The other part just wanted the world to go away and leave him in peace.

Things kept going wrong for Harry though. The next incident was in Potions. Really, Dudley dared to act in Potions? In front of Snape. The class had copied down notes from the board about how to brew the Potion they were about to brew. It would be a quick practical, and then they would have to write up the results of their brewing. While everyone was collecting their ingredients from the store no-one noticed Dudley take the long way round, past Harry's bench.

Harry's brew went perfectly. He was really pleased with it. He'd remembered a couple of little tips from the other textbook and the results of this were wonderful. His potion was the purest shade of pink. Snape had even looked impressed. The class settled down again after clearing down the benches and everyone picked up their parchments and quills and started to write up their results.

As soon as Harry wrote the first words on his parchment he hissed in pain at his hand. The word he'd just written was etched on the back of his hand in his own blood. In the silence of the room everyone turned to see where the noise had come from. Snape took one look and wrenched the quill out of Harry's hand, and threw it on his own desk. He turned to Dudley.

"Get out of my classroom!"

"But sir!"

"Out! I will expect to find you in the headmaster's office when I get there." by this time Snape had advanced towards Dudley's desk and was standing literally nose to nose with the boy. His first words had been a shout, but his last ones had been menacing, full of loathing.

Ron opened his mouth to protest, took one look at the stare levelled at him by Snape and shut it again. The whole class was terrified. No-one had ever seen Snape as angry. Dudley got up and let the room. Snape turned to the rest of the class.

"Did anyone tell you to stop working?" he demanded. There was a scurrying to pick up quills and write, although more than one person made a very careful small mark on their parchment first, just in case.

Snape went to his store room and returned with a jar. He went over to Harry and examined Harry's hand. He couldn't see a scar.

"Does it itch?"

"A little, like a cut does when it heals." said Harry. Snape applied the balm he'd just fetched and the itch went. Snape turned his attention back to the rest of the class.

"Did anyone see Mr. Dursley swap Mr. Potter's quill?" Snape demanded. As he'd expected, Weasley came to the boy's defence.

"Why are you blaming Dudley? It could have been anyone. Ask a Slytherin!" he said disrespectfully. Snape felt rather than saw Malfoy open his mouth to make a retort. He raised a single finger towards Malfoy without even looking in his direction.

"Not just now, Mr. Malfoy." Malfoy closed his mouth again. Arguing or going against anything his head of house said right now would be sheer suicide.

"Mr. Weasley, you may not be fully aware of the actions of Mr. Dursley and I am certainly not going to list them all for that would take far too long. Believe me when I tell you this was only his latest act. If you had any brains you would find a new acquaintance." He muttered something no-one quite caught about Gryffindor stubbornness then carried on a normal tones.

"My question was simple. There are enough of you in the room that one of you must have seen something. Contrary to popular belief I do not have eyes in the back of my head and I did not personally witness Mr. Dursley swapping the quills. If you do not wish to tell me right now, see me after the lesson. If I find out later that one of you knows something and did not tell me, a week of Mr. Filch's detentions will seem like a picnic!" he levelled his best stare at the class. No-one moved or even dared blink.

"Very well. Get on with your work."

At the end of the lesson Snape went straight up to the headmasters office. He found Dudley sitting in front of the headmasters desk, Dumbledore seated behind it.

"Ah, professor, we were just waiting for you, do come in. Take a seat." said Dumbledore amicably, indicating a chair. Snape shook his head.

"I'd prefer to stand, headmaster."

"As you wish. Mr. Dursley informs me that you accused him of swapping another student's quill and sent him to me. Is that accurate, professor?"

"As long as you don't mind him failing to mention that the quill that he swapped was a blood quill, and the student in question was Mr. Potter, then yes." growled Snape.

Dumbledore's eyes darkened for a moment. "And your proof it was Mr. Dursley?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

Into the ensuing silence Dudley spoke, "It wasn't me. I had nothing to do with it. What's a blood quill anyway?" Snape's hands clenched at that. The little sh...

"Professor?" asked Dumbledore, expecting a revelation.

"It would appear no-one in the class saw him do it." said Snape reluctantly, with barely disguised anger.

"That's because it wasn't me." maintained Dudley.

Snape was livid. One day he would find proof of just one of the things Dudley had done and the boy would sorely regret it.

"Then I have no option but to dismiss Mr. Dursley back to class." said Dumbledore evenly. He nodded a dismissal at Dudley who left the office.

There was a bit of Snape that was impressed. The bit of him that understood duplicity and connivance. The boy was never caught or seen. They'd trapped him before using guesswork and here say. But now the boy was more wary. He denied everything, he wasn't around when things happened and he still had a friend in Ronald Weasley. That surprised Snape. He assumed that after finding out about Hogsmeade and the incident in the staff common room that Weasley would have dropped Dursley like a stone. Unless he doesn't know, thought Snape. He considered for a moment telling the boy, but Harry must have a reason for him not knowing and he didn't want to break the boy's fragile trust in him.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, interrupting his thoughts, "I can understand you believing it was Mr. Dursley. Is Harry alright, by the way?" at Snape's curt nod Dumbledore continued, "I can even believe it was him myself. But as I have told you before. I need proof."

Snape sighed. "Yes, headmaster." and with that left his office.

Snape went to find Harry in the common room that evening and invited him to his office. He checked Harry's hand and then talked with him.

"Harry, I know I'm repeating myself. I know things keep happening to you. I... I'm sorry I haven't caught Mr. Dursley in the act yet. I promised I would, and I will."

Harry shrugged. There were days when he was so angry he just wanted to punch something, and there were days like this. Days when he just wanted to be someone else.

That's what bothered the potions master. Harry was coiled up like a spring. He buried everything, so used to having to bottle everything up at home.

"Harry, it's OK to express what you're feeling. You are allowed to be angry about this, and you are allowed to express that anger in plenty of ways that cause no harm to others. Go fly, go hit a quaffle around."

"Go talk with your friends. I can arrange for Madame Pince to leave you all alone with a silencing charm around you all if you want to be in the library for the evening if you like?"

Harry shook his head. "Thank you, sir, but that's OK."

Snape stood up and walked round to where Harry was sitting in front of his desk and crouched down next to him to look at him closely in the eyes. "You are too tense. You need to relax. If you don't you'll explode at the wrong point." he said softly to the boy.

Harry shrugged again. Snape stood up and stood behind him and put his hands on Harry's shoulders and squeezed. Harry's muscles were all tense. "Do you get headaches?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"I'm not surprised, your neck muscles are far too tense. Harry, relax. Here, no-one will harm you." Harry relaxed just a bit and Snape worked his fingers into Harry's neck muscles. Harry shut his eyes and exhaled. Merlin, that felt nice. Wait! He was getting a neck massage from Snape! He tensed up again.

"I said relax, Harry." said Snape quietly. Harry did so. For the next ten minutes Harry felt like his cares were all just out of reach.

"Better?" asked Snape just as Harry felt drowsy.

"Mmm." was the response.

"Thought so. Try to relax before you go to sleep every night. Get into bed ten minutes early and just breathe deeply and relax every muscle. Start at your toes and work up to your neck. You'll get a proper night's sleep and less headaches that way."

"I thought you were a potions master. You could give Madame Pomfrey a run for her money." said Harry.

"Potions heal people. To become a potions master you have to learn about ailments and cures as well as potions." said Snape, "and besides that, how do you think I sleep at night after one of you dunderheads has exploded a cauldron in my class?" he asked wryly.

"Go, get some rest." said Snape. "Good night Harry."

"Goodnight, professor."

* * *

The next couple of weeks were quiet from a Dudley point of view. Quidditch practices resumed, and Harry also made sure he spent time practising with the twins just from sheer enjoyment. Marcus asked him one time he'd been leaving the common room with his broom if he'd like to share any of the twins' tactics.

"They have fun, and enjoy themselves and they know exactly how the other thinks. So unless there are some twins in Slytherin we don't know about..." said Harry, keeping his tone jovial, but with an underlying hint that the answer he wanted to give wasn't quite as polite. Marcus didn't look embarrassed at all at Harry's response, it was, after all, the Slytherin way, but he knew not to ask again.

The only Dudley related thing to happen in that time was that one evening Dudley was doing his Potions homework in the common room and his quill suddenly started to smoulder at the tip. Seconds later it was alight. Dudley had been leaning over his work and had singed an eyebrow and his Potions homework on the parchment had gone up in smoke. Apparently if you tell the potions professor this, it's like saying that your dog ate your homework and you get assigned detention with Mr. Filch.

The weather turned colder as December started, promising a cold winter. There were three weeks until the end of term. A couple of professors were starting to mention words like study and revision in the run up to the end of term exams. Harry was feeling confident that he would do well this time. He'd done a lot more studying than he ever had before this term. Occasionally he felt a bit like Hermione in that respect.

Harry felt rather sorry for Ron when they met in the library that week as Hermione berated him for not doing his homework and not studying. It was Hermione at her best with her best teacher-voice on and her rant went on for a while. It inferred that Ron was spending far too much time with Dudley and far too little time on his work and it ended with her taking pity on him and promising him that she'd draw up a study timetable for him. Harry hid his grin behind the book he was reading. He didn't want to openly laugh at his friends but their relationship was certainly an odd one.

Ron might have got the hint though, because he was concerned enough that when he returned to Gryffindor tower after dinner he picked up his Transfiguration textbook and his notes and started to read them. There was just so much to learn! He'd taken notes in lessons, way more than Dudley had. How Dudley was going to pass his exams was a mystery to Ron. Ron remembered that he'd studied hard throughout summer though, so perhaps he was a natural study underneath. It was so unfair. Even Harry had been studying, so much so that he'd avoided the wrath of Hermione as he dubbed her lecture earlier.

So Ron got down to some serious study in a quiet corner of the common room. Dudley came over to him when he returned from his detention. He'd been in detention before dinner with Snape as it was Tuesday, but he'd given Snape lip and received an evening detention for his trouble. So it was late when Dudley came in.

"What am I?" he demanded, showing Ron his hands, "A bloody house-elf? He had me scrubbing cauldrons all night!" Then Dudley looked at what Ron was doing.

"What's that?" he demanded.

"Study. We have exams in two weeks and I really don't want to get Trolls. My parents would completely flip." said Ron.

"I had forgotten we had exams." said Dudley in a quiet voice. He was thinking that he'd done far too little work and his notes from class, or lack of them, weren't going to be enough. He wondered if there were a way around exams. Being ill for the whole of that week perhaps. Getting his father to write a letter. Anything would do. But nothing good sprang to mind. He would have to think on it further.

Two days later, Dudley found a potential solution to his exam problem. He'd just received a Troll for a piece of Transfiguration homework and was having to explain himself to Professor McGonagall in her office.

" I expect better from someone in my own house. During the summer you studied, and studied well, and as a result you are studying with the second years. If however you continue to produce abysmal results, next year you will be repeating the year. Study Mr. Dursley. The Christmas exams are coming up."

Professor McGonagall appeared to think about something for a moment before continuing. She really disliked Dudley for how he treated Harry, but as head of house she tried to see that he'd been punished and the matter was closed.

"I do not want to see you fail, so I will give you a little tip. It will not help you in the long term - in the summer exams you will be tested on everything you have learnt throughout the whole year, however to point you in the right direction for your study over the next two weeks I will give you a little piece of advice. The Christmas exams have already been written for all subjects. Anything that you learn for the next two weeks will not be something you need to study for your upcoming exams. I usually inform my classes of this in a week's time, so this is not exactly uncommon news. But it should help to focus your efforts."

"The exams have already been written?" asked Dudley. He'd harboured a hope that if he could in some way majorly inconvenience the staff they wouldn't have time to write the exams and he'd get a short reprieve to do some study with Ron.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley, they are. And as Deputy Head it is my job to check them all thoroughly to make sure that they are fair. In fact, that is my job for this week." As she said this she placed a hand on a folder on her desk.

Dudley realised that the folder contained the exams. If only he could get a quick peek at them. There was only one copy though and there was no way that McGonagall would ever leave him alone in her office, and anyway he'd need hours to look through all papers for all subjects.

"I'm sorry, professor. I will study hard, you'll see. I will pass my exams. As a matter of fact, Ron and I were going to start revising tonight."

"See that you do." said McGonagall in tones that suggested she was reasonably sure that he'd just made that up, but wouldn't bother arguing with him.

Dudley took that as his hint to leave, but left her office with his mind working overtime. How to get those papers?

That evening, Dudley was studying in the common room with Ron when Hermione returned from the library with the twins. Ron went over to talk to Hermione.

"Hermione," he said. From the way he said her name, Hermione knew he wanted something. He always managed to sound like a lost puppy who needed looking after when he really wanted something. Ron continued, "The other day when we were studying - thank you for the study plan by the way - you said that my notes on Astronomy were next to useless to revise from and you made a copy of yours for me. Could you please show me how you did that, and perhaps let me copy your History of Magic notes form the first two weeks. I completely lost all those notes. I may have used them in a paper aeroplane contest with the twins."

Hermione gave him a look that said 'Will you ever learn?' but took pity on him. "I will show you the spell and then you may use it to copy my notes." she said.

"Thanks, you're a star!" said Ron gratefully.

"You know you'd get better study done if you came with me to the library than if you stayed here with Dudley." she added, feeling able to get that dig in as she was doing him a favour.

"Yes, but then who would Dudley study with? You know him and Harry avoid each other." said Ron.

"Have you thought about why that is?" asked Hermione, but didn't wait for an answer. She went to fetch the notes he wanted.

She returned quickly and with a wave of her wand she quickly showed him how to copy a set of notes, then she made Ron do it. He was pleased that he had done it so easily. "Um, Hermione?"

"What is it Ron? You sound like you're going to ask me something I will say no to."

"You know there are now three versions of your notes? Would it be OK if I gave a copy to Dudley?"

Hermione wanted with every fibre of her being to scream at him about how horrible Dudley was and how he wasn't deserving of an ounce of help and certainly not with her notes. But Hermione was unwillingly to let Dudley come in the way her friendship with Ron.

"If you must." she said, peeved.

"Thanks!"

Ron ran back to the corner where he was studying with Dudley.

"Mate, you'll never guess what?" said Ron, "Hermione made me a copy of her notes for History of Magic so I've now got a complete set. And, she showed me how to copy notes and now you can have a copy of what she just gave me too." added Ron excitedly.

"You know how to make a copy of parchments?" asked Dudley, trying to sound innocent.

"Yeah, and you needn't sound like that, I will make a copy of all my notes you've not got so you can study when I'm not here." said Ron generously.

"Thanks." said Dudley, thinking of something completely different to copy.

Next morning before breakfast Dudley got a chance to talk with Ron in the dorm while no-one else was there. He'd thought for over an hour last night about how he could persuade Ron to do what he wanted. He thought about his usual methods (threats, bribery and blackmail), but none of those would work on Ron. Ron was well, too Gryffindor. As much as he hated to do it, he had to appeal to Ron's good nature.

"Ron, mate," started Dudley, making sure to sound vulnerable, "I'm afraid of failing these exams."

"Don't' worry about them," said Ron, "I thought that for most of last year and I'm still here."

"But it's not like that for me, I've only known about being a wizard and the wizarding world for a few months. It's not just the theory stuff, it's the practical too. My notes are next to useless and I'm terrified I'll have to repeat the year." replied Dudley, making sure that he emphasised the last bit. Repeating a year was something that made Ron's blood run cold. His parents would completely flip out if that happened to him.

"Don't talk that way," said Ron, "Perhaps we can talk with Professor McGonagall about it if you're that worried. And anyway, Harry was in the same boat as you last year, and look at him. And Hermione." Ron added. Dudley scolded at mention of his cousin, but didn't say anything, now wasn't the time.

"I saw something that could help me in McGonagall's office the other day." he said conspiratorially. "The papers have been written. They were on her desk. Wouldn't you just love a moment or two in her office?"

"Would I ever." said Ron wistfully, assuming Dudley was only partially joking and joining in.

"You could make a copy of the papers and no-one would be any the wiser." said Dudley.

"Merlin, you're serious!" exclaimed Ron. "She'd freak! We'd be expelled! Worse, my parents would murder me!"

"They'd never know," said Dudley trying to calm Ron down. This wasn't going quite how he planned it. He needed a stronger appeal.

"Ron. I know that I will get rubbish marks even if I study every free hour there is from now until the end of term. I will barely scrape an Acceptable in most subjects, and I'll still get a Poor in Potions and History of Magic. I need help. Um. I don't know why I'm telling you this but..."

Dudley sounded so helpless Ron stopped packing his bag for the day and looked at him. Dudley was scuffing his shoe on the floor and was looking at his feet.

"Mate, what's wrong?" said Ron, suddenly concerned.

"My parents will go completely mental when they find out I've failed." said Dudley.

"So would mine, but..."

"No, you don't get it," said Dudley, "They...er... um... Did you ever wonder why last year at Christmas Harry didn't come home after the exams? His results weren't great..." said Dudley, he wouldn't have spell out what he was implying.

"Dudley! You're parents... do they... er... punish you... if you don't get good grades?" asked Ron incredulously.

Dudley could produce crocodile tears at will. His parents gave him anything he wanted when he did it, so he got really good at it. Ironic really, given what he was making up about them now.

"Merlin! Dudley! Mate, I'll help." said Ron. "Maybe we could get Hermione..."

"NO! I mean, no, please, Ron, be a friend, don't tell anyone. We can solve this ourselves." said Dudley.

"Anything, mate." said Ron.

Neville entered the room at that point, so they left and went to breakfast.

The pair of them spent the day hatching a plan. It was in itself quite simple, they just had to get lucky. Or to be more precise, Ron had to get lucky. It was Dudley's plan after all, he would never be in danger of getting caught.

That afternoon after classes, Dudley knocked on the door of Professor McGonagall's office. One of the items he'd bought from the joke shop in Diagon Alley in summer had been a kit to make it look like you had a bruise. It was guaranteed to fool wizarding parents and professors unless someone cast a diagnostic charm. Bruise balm would make it disappear, but no-one would know it was fake. He'd applied it to his forehead.

"Professor! Peeves is throwing stuff in the third floor corridor, look something hit me!"

Professor McGonagall was torn between going to search fo Peeves and give him a piece of her mind, or whether to deal with the boy's injury. Much as she didn't like Dudley, she couldn't in all honesty ignore his problem.

"It looks worse than it is," said Dudley, pointing at his head. He'd seen her indecision. "But he was chasing two first years so I came here rather than the infirmary."

"That does it!" she said, grabbed her wand and marched out of her office, Dudley in tow. "Show me where he is."

Dudley made sure he'd caught his foot in her door slightly when she left, so it didn't quite shut properly. McGonagall was in too much of a temper to notice though as she went looking for Peeves.

Ron watched them disappear round the corner, checked no-one was looking and slipped into her office. Papers, papers, papers, he thought, not daring to displace anything in case she noticed, but willing the exams to make themselves seen.

On the corner of her desk was the folder Dudley had told him to look for. He quickly made a copy of all the papers, listening to every sound, praying it wasn't McGonagall returning. He stuffed the copies in his robes and checked to make sure everything was as he'd found it. He opened her door a crack to check the corridor was empty and he slipped out and ran back to the common room, his heart pounding in his chest and his palms sweaty. He ran straight up to their dorm room, found it thankfully empty, and stashed the papers in the bottom of his trunk.

He went back down to the common room trying to look like he wasn't up to anything and he waited for Dudley to return.

"Did you manage it?" asked Dudley on his return, "We couldn't find Peeves, obviously, but she was out for quite a while."

"I did it. They're in my trunk. Will she suspect?"

"Keep an eye on her at dinner. She went straight back into her office, so if she doesn't realise by now, then we're safe." replied Dudley.

That evening at dinner both boys were nervous and kept glancing at the head table, but nothing seemed amiss with McGonagall.

They'd got away with it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Dudley has a bad day

At the end of that week, the heads of house took the names of students who were staying over Christmas. Harry, Hermione and the twins chose to stay. Ginny, Percy and Ron chose to visit their brother Bill in Egypt. Neville didn't get a choice. His Grandmother wanted him home for the holidays.

Over the next two weeks, Ron wasn't seen much in the common room and neither was Dudley. They kept finding quiet places around school to practise charms and spells that were on the exams, and study where no-one would ask what they were studying from.

Ron didn't actually learn from the papers. He didn't want to. He had a fear of getting caught. But he helped Dudley whenever Dudley asked about a topic and helped him with the pronunciation of spells and the particular wand actions. The trouble was, Dudley was pretty abysmal. He'd done so little study over the course of the term that Ron had to explain a lot to him. It took a week of patient explanation of certain things, just to get Dudley to be able to cheat mostly on his own.

The weekend before the week of their exams it snowed. There'd been flurries of snow all week, but that weekend it snowed. Not heavy, but enough to coat Hogwarts in two inches of snow. As it was a Saturday, Harry had gone out with his broom, he thought about finding the twins, but he felt awkward going up to the Gryffindor common room, so he went flying on his own. Even more than flying on a normal day, he loved flying when there was snow on the ground. The world looked so bright and clean. He'd spent a good hour up on his broom until the cold in his fingers began to send him messages to go inside and warm up.

He was in a rare good mood as he crossed the courtyard to head inside. Suddenly he was hit in the face by a snowball. At least that's what he thought it was until his brain registered how much it hurt. He looked down at his feet expecting to find something like a bludger from the amount of pain in his face, but instead was a giant ball of snow and icicles. Sharp icicles. He put his hand up to his face and it came away red. He could feel lots of tiny scratches and they was a deeper cut just above his left eye.

"Better look where you're going, Potter!" said the voice of his cousin.

Harry saw red. Not like in summer when his magic had built up and he couldn't control it, but more like the red mist descending kind of anger. All the pent up rage and frustration, fear and loneliness escaped. It escaped via Harry's fist. Which connected solidly with Dudley's right eye. Dudley wasn't one to back away from a fight, after all, he usually started them in some way, and he just had time to register that Harry's fist was being followed up by the rest of Harry. Dudley had just pulled back his arm to punch Harry in the mouth when both of them were ripped away from each other roughly. It felt like someone had picked them both up by their collars.

Neither of them could move. They were half suspended in the air. Harry heard footsteps behind him and Professor Flitwick came into view.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" he demanded. Harry knew it took a lot to get Flitwick angry, but when he was you didn't want to be around.

"He punched me, professor," whined Dudley looking immediately innocent.

"He threw ice in my face," said Harry hotly.

"Enough! When I cancel this freezing charm we are going to walk into school. Neither of you will do anything stupid." said Professor Flitwick. With a wave of his wand Harry found he could move again.

"Inside. Now." Flitwick lead them to the nearest classroom. He opened the door and indicated for Harry to go inside. "Stay here." Harry heard him go to the next classroom, open the door and heard the words "Stay here." then Flitwick's footsteps retreated away down the corridor.

Please let him have seen Dudley throw the snowball, Harry prayed.

Five minutes later, a two sets of footsteps returned. The door was opened by Professor Snape. He did not look happy. "My office. Now." When Harry exited the classroom he saw Professor McGonagall. She didn't look happy either. All four of them walked in silence to Snape's office.

Inside the office, the two boys were standing in front of two very angry professors.

"I would ask for an explanation, except that I do not need one." said Snape. "Professor Flitwick saw the following: Harry was crossing the courtyard carrying his broom. Mr. Dursley threw what looked like a snowball at him. Harry's eye started to bleed, then he punched Mr. Dursley in his. Mr. Dursley started to retaliate by which time Professor Flitwick had managed to intervene. Would either of you care to add anything?"

"Yeah, the snowball was made of icicles and my face hurts like hell." said Harry dripping with attitude. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sir." said Harry belatedly. Now was probably not the best time to have an attitude.

"Mr. Dursley?" asked Snape.

"I didn't know there was ice in the snowball." said Dudley, trying his usual tactic.

"We do not buy that for a second, Mr. Dursley. Mainly because I went outside and took a quick look at the snowball." said Professor McGonagall. "That was a deliberate act of violence towards another student."

Snape had gone over to a cabinet on the wall of his office. He returned with two jars of balm. He handed one to McGonagall and approached Harry with the other.

"That's a nasty cut. This is going to sting a bit." he said. He applied the balm gently to Harry's eyebrow. He was right. It stung, but the bleeding stopped. There were a number of tiny scratches of Harry's face that Snape also dabbed the balm on. They healed in seconds.

Professor McGonagall had applied bruise balm to Dudley's eye. The bruise was gone in under a minute. Snape returned the balms to the cabinet.

Snape resumed standing in front of the boys. "Mr. Potter, I believe you are aware of my feelings about fighting at school. I believe you are also aware of the punishment for such actions." Harry's heart sank and he looked at the floor.

"Yes, sir." What could he say? Flitwick had just seen him sock Dudley round the eye. It had felt good though. And never would he apologise to Dudley. He'd rather take a spanking with Snape's ruler.

Professor McGonagall spoke. "Mr. Dursley, I am, once again, deeply disappointed by your actions. You are aware of the rules. Assaulting another student is against them." Dudley opened his mouth. "Do not dare answer me back or even contemplate saying you are in any way innocent!" she shouted.

Her voice scared the living daylights out Harry, and he wasn't the one she just shouted at. Dudley swallowed. She never raised her voice! Was she furious, thought Harry. McGonagall continued in a more moderate tone.

"When students in my house are caught fighting I usually floo-call their parents and they come to deal with their children, or they request that their child goes home with them for punishment. I do not believe that either of these options is suitable in your case, Mr. Dursley. Your punishment will happen at school."

Great, thought Harry sarcastically, I go over Snape's knee and Dudley gets detention with Mr. Filch. McGonagall never handed out anything harsher, or more, well, Snape-like.

"I rarely use corporal punishment. My Gryffindors usually amend their behaviour after an alternative form of punishment. I do not believe that this is the case with you, Mr. Dursley. I am aware you already have had weekly detentions with Professor Snape that have not amended your behaviour."

A spark of satisfaction rose in Harry. At least his cousin was going over someone's knee.

"Professor Snape will be in charge of your punishment." she added.

The spark turned into a bonfire. Dudley had been caught doing something to Harry and Snape was going to punish him. Harry took a look at Dudley's face, just for the satisfaction value. He was as white as a sheet. If only Harry had known what the word schadenfreude meant...

"Mr. Durlsey, go wait in the corridor. Mr. Potter go wait in my study." He boys left the room.

Snape turned to McGonagall, "You do know what's about to happen, don't you, Minerva?" he asked.

"I am well aware of how you discipline your Slytherins for fighting, Severus. The boy deserves it. But I will, as Deputy Head say this. You are only to punish him for this incident. You cannot prove he did anything else. Nor will you pressure him into saying any about any other incident. Do not abuse your position, Severus." her tone was hard.

"Minerva, I will not be abusive, but do not expect me to be merciful. He's getting a spanking including a couple with a ruler." said Snape. Minerva nodded and left the office, closing the door behind her.

Snape went to his study and called Harry into the office. Snape sat down on the armless chair in front of his desk and pointed to a spot in front of him. Harry went and stood on the spot. Snape looked into Harry's eyes.

"I'm not going to apologise, however many I get." said Harry with a certain bravado.

"I wasn't going to ask you to." replied Snape.

"But last time..." siad Harry, now confused.

"Last time you shoved a professor against a wall. This time you lost your temper with someone who is bullying you. There's a difference." said Snape levelly.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're sorry either." he continued, "You clearly aren't. And If I were in your position I wouldn't be either." he added. He didn't add that if he were in Harry's position Dudley would have got a lot more than a black eye, and Snape would be currently explaining to the headmaster why he'd hexed a student until they couldn't stand up.

"However," Snape continued, "There is such a thing as school rules, and certain actions are frowned upon. Punching other students in the face is one of them."

Harry reflected that Snape didn't sound angry. He didn't even sound disappointed. Resigned maybe?

"If you had, however, paid a little bit more attention to the breathing exercises when you went to sleep you would be a lot calmer generally, and you wouldn't be in this position."

There it is, thought Harry, just a hint of disappointment. But there was also a bit of Harry that wasn't going to play the part of the contrite student.

"If the staff looked closer at what goes on amongst the students..." he started, testily, but he trailed off when Snape raised an eyebrow and his expression hardened just a bit.

"I do not think you are in the best position right now to accuse the faculty of not doing their best." said Snape. Harry looked at the floor.

"What's going to happen to Dudley?" asked Harry, a touch sullenly.

"That is between me and him." answered Snape, "Unless you wish to experience it first hand?" he said with a smirk.

Harry shook his head vehemently." No, sir."

"Harry, I will say this one last time, you need to control your temper, whatever your cousin does. You have friends. They are your friends. I told you at the beginning of the year that if they were truly your friends they would stick by you, and they have. I even believe that if Mr. Weasley knew the whole truth he would act more like your friend. He doesn't know does he?"

Harry shook his head.

"May I ask why not?"

"I was embarrassed. Dudley keeps doing stuff and either framing me or getting away with it and can't stop him. I've had years of practice, but I just can't win, it's just so embarrassing. And then, if he finds out that he's friends with Dudley when he shouldn't be, I'd have been the person who pointed out how stupid he's being. It'd be so awkward."

"More awkward than finding yourself over my knee because this morning you went out on your own to fly instead of with a friend?" asked Snape pointedly.

Harry just shrugged.

"Think about it, Harry." said Snape. "Shall we get this over with?"

Harry nodded, trying to look unfazed, but inside he knew just how much this was going to hurt.

Snape helped Harry over his knee. "What are you over my knee for, Harry?" he asked.

"Punching another student in the face." replied Harry.

"Correct." said Snape as he raised his hand and brought it down on the seat of Harry's trousers with a crack. He made sure not to be too firm, Harry was not that deserving, but enough that he wouldn't want to sit down too abruptly at lunchtime.

Harry stifled a yelp, more out of surprise than pain though. As Snape applied his hand a number of times he felt his backside heat up. It really did sting. His legs involuntarily kicked out, but Snape had his left arm wrapped around Harry's torso so he couldn't go anywhere.

Harry was surprised when Snape stopped at ten. Snape was rubbing circles on Harry's back. It amazed Harry that the hand that had just lit is bum on fire could be seconds later so gentle and caring. Harry got his breathing under control and Snape helped him up. He pulled Harry into an embrace. For some reason it didn't seem completely weird that Snape was giving him a hug. Harry had had so few hugs in his life that he didn't want it to ever stop. He was disappointed when Snape released him.

"If you do not wish to return to the common room yet, you may wait in my study. I can summon a house-elf to bring you a hot chocolate. You're probably still a bit cold from being outside." Harry nodded gratefully.

"Go and sit on one of the couches. You'll be brought a hot chocolate. There is a silencing charm on this room. Just as Mr. Dursley cannot hear you while he is currently standing outside, you will not be able to hear what goes on in here. Do not come in here. I will come to the study when I am finished. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Harry remembered what Snape said a couple of minutes ago about experiencing what was about to happen to Dudley. Harry had no wish to be caught eavesdropping in any way.

Harry went into the study and closed the door behind him. Snape summoned a house elf to bring Harry a hot chocolate. He then placed the ruler on his desk in plain sight and sat behind his desk. He altered the silencing charm in such a way that his voice could be heard through the door to the boy in the corridor.

"Come in, Mr. Dursley." he said in his most menacing tone. Dudley entered the room, not looking quiet as cocky as usual. There was something about standing outside a room for twenty minutes with only his impending punishment to consider that had begun to affect Dudley just a bit.

In fact, Dudley looked a little bit nervous. This made very Snape happy on the inside. Part of punishing the boy wasn't about setting fire to his back, although Snape was exceedingly sure the boy deserved it. It was about taking him down more than a peg or too. Making him feel accountable for his actions. Perhaps show a bit of due respect and humility. Snape was planning on making all those things happen.

Dudley had angered him in more ways than one. He had caused another student a lot of pain, not just physical pain either. He had systematically tried to break someone's spirit. He had also made Snape feel powerless. Very few people could do that. In an ideal world, Snape would have, at the first opportunity, dosed the boy with veritaserum , demanded the truth, and put him over his knee accordingly. But the rules wouldn't let him, and so he'd had to play this tit-for-tat game, trying to find out and prove what the boy was up to. That had rankled, knowing he'd been right but just couldn't prove it.

Severus had been surprised when Minerva had handed the boy over to him for discipline. She knew exactly what was about to happen to him. She was usually so protective of her lions. It took a lot to anger Minerva, but Dudley had clearly managed. Like many of the staff, she had a soft spot for Harry and looked out for him.

Snape had been thinking for nearly a minute. That gave the boy in front of him time to worry just a bit more. Excellent, he thought.

"Mr. Dursley, I require an explanation for your actions." Dudley opened his mouth but Snape cut him off by raising a finger, "If the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of 'It wasn't me', or 'I thought it was just snow' and will take you over my knee for lying to me and then I will ask the same question again." Dudley shut his mouth.

There was a long silence.

"Do you even have an explanation?" Dudley thought about the question. He had an explanation, but not one he was going to share with the professor. How Harry had been dumped on his family, how he always got in Dudley's way, how he'd had to go to school and share the same class with him when he did freaky things. He'd always resented Harry's very existence at Privet Drive. He still did. He'd been given permission at home, even if it was through his parents not saying anything, to demean Harry his whole life. Why should he stop now? It was the way of his world. He was right and at the top. Harry was wrong and at the bottom.

So he shook his head.

"Do you have any idea of the hurtfulness of your actions?" Snape asked.

"Why should I? It's only the freak." His natural response just slipped out. He really should have made an effort to watch what he said. He was too used to being able to talk about Potter however he liked - at school , at home - it made no difference. No one ever cared about his cousin.

"You will regret that remark considerably in the near future." growled Snape. "Mr. Dursley, I'm am not sure that anyone has ever explained certain things to you. I feel it's my duty to at least try to educate you, so listen very carefully. There is no place at Hogwarts for bullies. Bullying is an act I find despicable. I will not stand for it. Neither will any other member of staff here. You seem to think that you can get away with doing whatever you want. That is also something you will soon find to be untrue. Actions have consequences. Today you made a bad a choice and your actions were wrong, so now you will feel the consequences."

"I do not think anyone has ever held you accountable for what you do either. You have done many things so far this year for which this is the case." There was a sadness in his voice when he said that. Perhaps in a different world, with a different upbringing, Dudley would have been different, Snape thought.

"You can't..." said Dudley, finding his voice, even if it was very wavy, "You need proof."

"That is correct, Mr. Dursley. I am only going to punish you for vindictively throwing ice at Mr. Potter's face. However, I would ask you to consider the concepts of justice and mercy. It would be just, based on the rules of Hogwarts for me put you over this desk and apply a ruler to your backside." Dudley paled. "But, on the other hand, if you were sorry for your actions, or had shown remorse I might be merciful. Do you deserve mercy, Mr. Dursley?" he asked.

Dudley was silent for a moment. There were some concepts that Dudley just didn't understand. It seemed remorse fell into that category.

"But you are Potter's head of house. You always take his side. You blamed me for the quill in your lesson, yet you couldn't prove it was me. You're going to be vindictive to me, as you put it, whatever I say."

"Have you considered that might be due to your previous actions? You are not even sorry when you are caught." snapped back Snape, "And believe me, you have no idea how vindictive I could be. Perhaps let me give you some examples."

"If I were an unfair man, I'd put you over this desk an set your backside on fire with my ruler. If I were feeling just a little put out that you maliciously bullied a member of my house I'd require you to count the strokes out loud. If I were vindictive, I'd require you to thank me after each stroke. And if I were a very vindictive man, I require you to ask me for the next one. Now tell me, Mr. Dursley, how vindictive do you think I am?" asked Snape is soft, clipped, and above all, dangerous tones.

Dudley just stood there, he didn't even open his mouth. Contemplating what Snape had just said terrified the life out of him.

Snape knew he was being cruel to the boy, but being reasonable hadn't worked. The boy had no sense of right and wrong. He had no remorse. If the only way he was going to get through to him was by being the evil bat of the dungeons the students thought he was, then so be it.

"Do you have any plea for mercy, Mr. Dursley?" Snape asked, rising from his chair and picking up the ruler.

Dudley's eyes were open wide. Snape was truly terrifying when he put his mind to it. But Dudley couldn't bring himself to apologise. Snape might just, if Dudley begged for forgiveness and said he was sorry, reduce his sentence, or at least be merciful as the man put it, but Dudley just couldn't. He hated his cousin too much. He wasn't sorry for a single thing he'd done to the freak. Dudley nearly imperceptibly shook his head. Did Snape look sad by that? Dudley wasn't sure.

"Very well. Remove your robes, and bend over the desk."

Dudley swallowed and did what he was asked. When Dudley was over his desk Snape said coldly, "Count each swat, Mr. Dursley."

Snape had pocketed the ruler for a second when the boy wasn't looking. He lifted his hand and brought it down hard on the boy's rear end. Dudley cried out and stood up, rubbing his bum.

"I see you are unaware of how this goes, Mr. Dursley." said Snape nastily. "Every time you get out of position, that swat does not count. Neither will it if you carry on too much. I am aware it hurts. That's the point."

Snape applied his hand to exactly the same spot. Tears formed in Dudley's and eyes but he didn't rise.

"One."

"Be grateful I'm not a vindictive man, Mr. Dursley." said Snape as he spanked the boy slightly lower on the next swat.

Dudley had been crying out with every swat since the fourth. At the ninth swat Snape decide he was just a little bit vindictive and applied the reminder all very firmly to the boy's sit spots. The boy rose off the desk after the sixteenth, his voice coming out very high pitched as he counted the swat. Snape retrieved the ruler from his pocket and laid it across Dudley's bum so he'd know what was coming. Snape chose to be merciful and planted his left hand on the boy's back for the two strokes he applied with the ruler so he did not have to repeat any other than the first swat.

When he'd finished, Dursley was a snivelling mess over his desk, his backside clearly smarting. Snape didn't feel he wanted to comfort the boy, but then he also didn't feel the boy wanted his comfort either. When he punished his Slytherins they were sorry, they apolgised somewhere around halfway, but Dursley had just yelped and cried in pain throughout. It was the lack of remorse that bothered Snape the most. The boy probably wouldn't even realise that Snape holding him on the desk had been a kindness given what he'd said would happen if the boy stood up again.

Dudley got up from the desk and the only noise that could be heard in the room was Dudley's hitched breathing, which he eventually got under control. Snape returned to his desk and sat down.

"When you are ready, Mr. Dursley, you may leave. If you wish a few moments to collect yourself before wandering around the hallways, you may have them."

Dudley shook his head and abruptly left Snape's office.

Snape returned the ruler to his drawer, cancelled the silencing charm and went into his study. Harry was curled up on one of the couches, careful that his backside didn't touch the seat. He had a blanket over him.

"It's not a slumber party, Mr. Potter." said Snape, pretending to be stern.

"Missy brought me the blanket, sir, she said I looked cold." said Harry quickly.

"I'm joking Harry. I should have thought on and asked her to fetch one when she brought you the hot chocolate. Are you feeling able to face the world again?"

Harry nodded.

"Then you are also capable of a verbal answer." said Snape, unable to keep the mild irritation out of his voice. One of the most annoying habits of students was the nodding and the shaking and the shrugging. It drove him to distraction.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Thank you for the hot chocolate and the blanket."

"It is Saturday and it's lunchtime, Harry. Go find your friends." said Snape.

Harry did just that.

* * *

At lunchtime Snape sat next to Dumbledore.

"Mr. Dursley appears to have trouble sitting comfortably, Severus. Dare I ask?"

Snape was about to reply when Minerva interjected, "Mr. Dursley decided he'd like to assault another student. Severus explained to him the error of his ways."

Dumbledore looked towards to Slytherin table, looking for someone.

"It appears Mr. Potter also has a similar trouble."

"Mr. Potter had a similar opinion to Mr. Dursley on whether or not it was permissible to assault another student." replied Severus.

They looked back to Dudley. "However it appears that Dudley doesn't take correction quite as well." said Dumbledore, noting that Dudley was glowering at the world around him. "One of you please make sure he doesn't do anything really stupid, won't you?"

"Yes, Albus." said Minerva. She paused a moment, "Oh, Severus, while we're talking about students not taking things so well, what was wrong with Mr. Malfoy this morning at breakfast? He got a letter, read it, and then turned rather pale. Do you know what that was about?"

Severus shook his head, making a mental note to quietly find out that evening on his rounds in the common room. They all looked over to where Malfoy was sitting and found him strangely enough staring at Ginny Weasley who in turn looked like she'd been crying.

"What is wrong with all the students today?" asked Minerva. Severus shook his head, equally puzzled.

* * *

After lunch Ginny was returning to Gryffindor tower. She was upset about Colin Creevey. He'd seen her trying to catch Harry on a quiet corridor and had taken a photograph. That morning he'd brought her the photograph in the common room in front of her friends. It'd been captioned 'Looking for her beau.' In front of her friends! She'd been so embarrassed. He had no idea what he'd done. She'd ripped up the picture on the spot and run out of the common room to the sounds of her giggling friends behind her.

She'd eaten lunch on her own, and wanted to remain alone for the remainder of the weekend. Month. Year. Forever. She'd never be able to look her friends in the eye again!

The last person she wanted to bump in to was Draco Malfoy.

"Upset again, Weasley? Merlin, all of you are so pathetic."

"Go away, Malfoy!" she said, the tears welling up again.

"So you can what? Write in that stupid diary of yours?" Draco said, goading her, "I've seen you, in quiet little corners, scribbling away. How's that going for you?"

Ginny looked at him blankly. What corners? What diary?

"I don't know what you mean." she said, her confusion momentarily stopping her from crying. "What diary? I don't have a diary?"

Then it was Draco's turn to look confused. His father's letter said she had a diary, he'd told Draco to find out how much she'd been writing in it. Or else. So Draco was finding out, although what was so important about a diary his father hadn't explained. Draco wasn't sure he wanted to report back that she had genuinely no idea about it.

Both of them parted ways, equally confused with the other one. Neither of them noticed Dudley below them on the staircase, listening to every word.

* * *

Dudley was pissed off. He didn't want to be with anyone, and he certainly hadn't wanted to answer Ron's questions at lunchtime about why he was fidgeting in his seat. He was on his way back to the common room having left Ron eating a second dessert and had nearly walked into Ginny and Draco.

He realised they were having a conversation about the diary he'd seen Mr. Malfoy place in Ginny's things at the bookstore. He'd completely forgotten about it, he'd just thrown it in his truck when he packed. It would be sat at the bottom by now. So it was a diary, was it.? He'd normally have no interest, and would have thrown it out next time he cleared his trunk, except that Draco was interested in it, so interested, he was telling outright lies about her having been writing in it, just to get a rise out of her. Mr. Malfoy must have deliberately put it in Ginny's trunk for a reason, and Dudley wondered what that was.

His curiosity was aroused. He went up to his dorm, his anger at life momentarily forgotten, until he sat on his bed that is and he stood back up and rifled through his trunk. There at the bottom was the diary. It was old and battered looking, now that he examined it up close. The faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it. It was blank, apart from the first page, which contained the words. 'T. M. Riddle' in smudged ink.

He thought about it for a while. Draco, and his father, had expected Ginny to be pouring her heart out into the diary. They wanted to know what she'd written? Why? It'd be girly stuff, surely. Probably about that idiot Creevey, thought Dudley.

He picked up a quill, and on the first page wrote, 'Dear Diary'

He was very surprised to find the diary write back, 'Hello. My name is Tom Riddle. What is your name?'

Dudley thought very carefully before writing, 'My name is Ginny Weasley.'

'Hello, Ginny Weasley. How did you come by my diary?'


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Duelling

That week all the students were very busy revising for their exams. There was little time for anything else. Naturally there was no quidditch practice that week, and in the evenings Harry thought he might just go stir crazy as Snape had banned pretty much any activity other than study for his Slytherins.

As the exams were not end of year exams they were done during lesson time in their normal teaching rooms. Lessons were all turned into double periods and so an exam lasted either all morning or all afternoon. To prevent students from cheating, charms were cast in the rooms to prevent copying from other students' papers. Students were also scheduled timeslots throughout the week to demonstrate any practical work.

Hermione was driving them all to distraction. Every afternoon in the library after the exams were finished for the day she'd go through each exam and work out which marks she'd lost and exclaim how badly it'd gone, even though they all knew she'd ace every exam and practical set.

Harry was surprisingly confident about the exams. There hadn't been any curveball questions, and even though he knew he'd done poorly in History of Magic, he knew that all the extra study he'd been doing with Hermione and Neville would pay off. He was hoping for Exceeds Expectations in at least a few subjects. He harboured a secret hope that with his use of Snape's textbook he'd even manage an Exceeds Expectations in Potions. He didn't even consider getting an Outstanding though, Snape wasn't that generous.

By the time Thursday came around Snape had relaxed his rules about evening activities and Harry was allowed to take his broom out. He met all his friends on the practice pitch, including Ron, as Dudley was nervous about the next day's Astronomy exam and had gone to his dorm to revise in peace and quiet. Everyone found it very surprising that when they were discussing how the exams had gone once more (Hermione did not know when to quit), that Ron said they'd been easy. Given the work Ron normally put in he was usually the first person to decide he'd failed.

Fred kindly pointed out that if you thought an exam was easy, chances are you'd screwed it up.

Friday was the last day of the exams. When Harry returned to the Slytherin common room after his afternoon exam he found a crowd of people round the notice board.

"Cool! They're starting a dueling club." said Adrian Pucey. "It starts tonight. That's going to be so much fun." Just about everyone agreed with him and that evening most of the school had turned out in the great hall all carrying their wands.

"I presume Professor Flitwick will be teaching it." Harry heard say Draco to Crabbe, "My father said he used to be dueling champion way back when." However, there was a collective intake of breathe and a few sniggers when Professor Lockhart walked out on stage. Professor Snape entered a few steps behind him. "He's going to make mincemeat of him. If only I could preserve this in my father's pensieve forever." Malfoy didn't even bother to hide the glee in his voice. All the students in earshot of this remark including Harry laughed quietly.

"Gather round, gather round. Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" said Lockhart.

Malfoy was proved right a few minutes later when Snape blasted Lockhart off his feet with an Expelliamus. Everyone was then put into pairs. Harry chose to work with Theo for the evening. Neville and Hermione hadn't come, Ron worked with Dudley and the twins were obviously paired together. After a few duels and the two professors had worked their way around the room, Snape suggested to Lockhart that they mix the pairings up a bit on the principle that you can't get too used to dueling with the same partner.

Everyone found someone else to work with, but Harry noticed that Snape had been whispering in Draco's ear. Draco went to partner Dudley, much to Harry's surprise. Snape stayed close to the pair as Lockhart said "Three – two – one – go!" Both Dudley and Draco started to duel on two and a half, unsurprisingly. Dudley went with a Tarantallegra but Draco yelled "Serpensortia" and a long black snake shot out of his wand towards Dudley.

Dudley looked momentarily surprised at the speed of the snake and instead of blocking or shielding he fired a stinging hex at it. This just enraged the snake, but Dudley moved surprisingly quickly for his size and stepped to the side. The snake headed straight towards the twins who were the pair just behind Dudley and Malfoy, its fangs exposed, ready to strike.

Harry ran towards the snake shouting, "Leave them alone." The snake slumped the floor, docile once more. Everyone looked towards Harry in shock. Murmurings rose up around the hall. Some people looked shocked and others looked angry.

"Harry, you're a parselmouth!" exclaimed Malfoy, and in quieter tones for Harry's ears only, "The plan was to send it towards Dursley, you twit. I thought you were friends with the Weasleys."

Harry looked at him in surprise, the rest of the hall still silent, "But I didn't send it anywhere, I told it to leave them alone. You all heard me."

"No, we didn't." said Malfoy, looking at Harry a bit strangely.

Dudley opened his mouth to speak. He had very sharp hearing and had heard Malfoy say he'd planned to send the snake towards him. He was going to say that the freak, although stupid, wasn't stupid enough to go up against him. But something about the atmosphere in the hall stopped him from saying anything. There were a few mutterings around. He heard Justin Finch-Fletchley say, "What does he think he's doing, sending the snake at the twins." and Dudley heard a number of people agree with him. Even Snape was looking at Harry with a shrewd and calculating expression. So Dudley shut his mouth again.

Theo took hold of Harry's elbow and escorted him quickly out of the great hall.

"Harry, you never said you spoke parseltongue! That's kinda cool, in a bit of a creepy way."

"I don't understand." said Harry, "Malfoy said the same thing. What's a parselmouth? What's parseltongue?"

"You don't know?" asked Theo, surprised. "It means you can talk to snakes. You truly don't know?"

"Well, I spoke to a boa constrictor in a zoo once, but why is it odd? Surely it's only like speaking French?"

"Not really," replied Theo, "Salazar Slytherin spoke parseltongue, and the only other person known to have been a parseltongue was You-Know-Who! Perhaps you're the great, great, great grandson or something of Salazar Slytherin." he added with a grin.

Harry lay awake a long time that night. He couldn't get the looks of the people in the hall out of his head. They had all associated him with the dark wizard. Great, thought Harry, something else to be famous for.

Dudley also lay awake that night. The chatter in the common room that evening had all been around parseltongue and parselmouths and the names Salasar Slytherin and You-Know-Who had come up more than once. There had been plenty of rumours about his cousin being a distant relative of the Hogwarts founder too. He had clearly heard his cousin tell the snake to leave the twins alone and it had. So he something in common with his cousin. They could both talk to snakes. In summer, Piers' corn snake had really freaked him out but at least now he knew there was a name for it, even if it wasn't something he'd admit to in public.

It was snowing a blizzard next morning. It'd been snowing all through the night. Harry got up early and decided to go find the twins. He hoped they didn't agree with the majority of people in the hall last night – he'd been trying to protect them, they had to believe him. Harry went to the Gryffindor common room and spoke to the Fat Lady.

"Good morning, do you know if the Weasley twins are in?"

"You could at least stop for a chat you know, I haven't gone anywhere." said the Fat Lady.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit preoccupied." said Harry, momentarily guilty that he hadn't stopped by to talk to the portrait.

"They were all talking about you last night you know, chattering like magpies as I let them in and out. Parselmouth, then are you?" asked the Fat Lady. Harry grimaced, he hadn't expected any different, but he'd hoped the rumours weren't that bad. Some hope!

"Please, I'd rather not talk about it." begged Harry, "Are Fred and George in?"

"As you wish, and no, they left about fifteen minutes ago, discussing the best way to prank one of the Hufflepuffs, so perhaps try the direction of their common room." the Fat Lady replied.

"Thanks." said Harry. He headed towards the Hufflepuff common room down by the kitchens, and met the twins sneaking out of the kitchen with early morning snacks.

"Morning, Lord Slytherin!" said Fred with a mock bow and a grin on his face.

"Please don't." said Harry earnestly. "I wanted to find you to say that I didn't…"

"Oh, Harry," said George, quickly, "we know you wouldn't. We came to find you last night in your common room, but Theo Nott came out and told us what you told him and that you'd gone to bed early. He's not bad for a Slytherin, by the way."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief which the twins noticed. "Is it that bad?" asked Fred.

"Oh yes," said Harry. "I don't mind the Salazar Slytherin comments, but the ones about You-Know-Who... those I'm not so keen on."

"It'll pass. Everyone will forget, and anyway, it's the holidays soon and the onlypeople staying are us, Hermione, Malfoy and his clowns and a couple of seventh year Ravenclaws who we don't know."

Thankfully for Harry the twins were right. The muttering and the looks went on for a few days, but the holidays happened and everyone left to go home for the holidays. Hopefully they'd all forget when they came back or some newer gossip would get everyone occupied. Ron and Ginny went on the Hogwarts Express so they could visit Bill in Egypt, Neville went home to spend the festive season with his grandmother and suddenly the school was quiet and devoid of people looking at him funnily and muttering. But best of all, Dudley had gone.

The students left for Hogsmeade station before lunch and at lunch the great hall had been rearranged so that there was only one table in the centre of the room. With so few students staying there was no point eating at house tables and there was plenty of room for the staff and the students to sit at the same table. Harry was exceptionally happy when they were told that all students remaining could use any of the three common rooms. Harry knew that Draco, Crabbe and Goyle would stay in Slytherin, but that the permission was really for him to spend all of Christmas with Hermione and the twins. They were told they had to sleep in their own dorms though.

The great hall had been decorated for the season with twelve frost-covered Christmas trees and streamers of holly and mistletoe. It's going to be a wonderful Christmas this year, Harry thought. Last Christmas he hadn't known what to expect, but this year he'd been looking forward to the holidays. Time with his friends, Christmas dinner, no Dursleys.

Harry was right. The school was eerily quiet with no students and surrounded by snow, but Harry found it all rather peaceful. For the two weeks of the holidays Harry spent his days playing Exploding Snap, having snowball fights (even the other Slytherins had joined in and enjoyed themselves), eating far too much Christmas chocolate and candy and exchanging Christmas gifts. He'd bought the twins a few mail order items from Zonko's, the sort Filch would have a hernia over, and he'd bought Hermione a self-inking quill. The twins had given him a box of chocolate frogs and an official book of quidditch rules ("So that you can tell when your own team are cheating," Fred had said). But his favourite present was one he wasn't expecting.

When he woke up Christmas morning, he found a neatly wrapped gift on his bedside table. When he opened it he found a beautiful picture frame containing a picture of his mother. There was a note attached, 'Put the other photos in the back of the frame behind this one. The frame is charmed to cycle round the photos. Merry Christmas, Harry. SS.' Harry's breath caught in his throat. He quickly added his other pictures and spent the next hour just watching them, taking in every detail, his eyes damp with tears.

Christmas dinner had been one of the best meals Harry had had in his life. The table had nearly been groaning with the amount of food on it. The staff had been inclusive with the students throughout the holidays at mealtimes, and it wasn't even that weird for the twins to manage a short conversation with Professor Snape by the time Christmas day came round. At Christmas dinner the potions professor had even deigned to pull a cracker with them, much to the amusement of his colleagues. Harry made sure to find a quiet moment with his head of house to thank him for his gift. Snape had told him he was welcome with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

New Year had also been enjoyable. They'd stayed up until midnight in the Gryffindor common room playing a variety of silly games and Professor McGonagall had come over from the staff common room after midnight to wish them all a happy new year. They were clearly having a happy new year where she'd been as it wasn't an entirely straight line that she took out of the room afterwards.

The day before the students returned, Harry took the opportunity of there being no other students around to try out another of the hexes from the margins of Snape's textbook. Langlock sounded really good fun – a hex to glue someone's tongue to the roof of their mouth. Definitely one he wanted to use on Dudley if it worked. It had taken him a few days to come up with an excuse of some kind for the twins about how he knew about it. Harry felt guilty lying to the twins, but at least his lie was for a good cause.

"Hey, Fred, George," said Harry as he entered the Gryffindor common room that morning, "I just overheard Malfoy talking to Crabbe and Goyle about a great hex we should try out. Apparently he'd been talking to his father who was complaining about having to listen to some dull ministry advisor, and he wished that he'd been able to perform a Langlock hex just to shut him up. Do either of you know what that is?"

The twins shook their heads, "Not a clue, but we could try it out if you like." said George, up for investigation as usual.

"But you don't know what it does!" admonished Hermione. "What if it does something horrible like cutting your tongue out?" she demanded, "It's from Mr. Malfoy remember."

"But what if it doesn't?" countered George, with a wink.

"And anyway," said Fred, "We just go to the infirmary and pretend like we ate something from Zonko's that disagreed with us like last time."

"There was a last time?!" said Hermione, channeling Mrs. Weasley.

"Don't ask, Mum!" said George, smiling at her, just to irritate her a bit more. Hermione huffed and left the common room.

"Well don't say I didn't warn you. I'm going to the library, I'd rather not watch." she said, exasperated but not annoyed.

"Just us then." said Fred. "Langlock, did you say, Harry?"

Harry nodded, "But you don't have to do this, you don't know what it does." he said. Harry knew what it was supposed to do, so wasn't too concerned, but was concerned about the willingness of the twins to leap before they looked.

"Oh, Harry, Harry. So much to learn." said Fred and pointed his wand at George, "Langlock!" he said confidently.

George tried to speak, but only succeeded in gargling and drooling a bit.

"What's it done?" asked Fred clinically. George opened his mouth and pointed.

"That's fantastic!" said Fred, "Your tongue's stuck to the roof of your mouth. I can think of a whale-sized idiot that's going to get a load of this soon." He added with a grin.

Fred's Finite Incantatem freed George's tongue, who promptly agreed with him.

"Harry, you're the best spy in Slytherin we've got. I think we'll make you stay there for the rest of your school career." he said. "Let's test how far away this works at. This one could be even better if we can cast it down a corridor."

For the rest of the morning all three of them played with the jinx. At one point Harry considered telling them about the final hex, Sectumsempra, but he didn't know what it did. The only note next to the spell read 'For enemies' and Harry was unwilling to cast it on the twins or let them cast it on each other without knowing what it did. It would undoubtably be just as much fun as the other two, but he remembered Fred's head hitting the floor when they released Levicorpus. What if more than one cushion was needed for Sectumsempra? He'd rather Dudley find out about that – Harry liked the twins.

It was a fun last day of the holidays. All in all, Harry had had a wonderful Christmas.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Ron learns the truth

On the first Sunday in January the Hogwarts Express returned, and term resumed. Harry had enjoyed the holidays - it'd given him a chance to enjoy the Gryffindor common room, even if it had been with only four other people. All the staff and students had eaten at the same table, as so few people stayed over the holidays and it was a bit strange to be back at the Slytherin table for dinner.

Next morning at breakfast owls arrived bringing everyone's exam results. It was the first time Harry opened his results without fear and trepidation. When he had taken exams back at his old school he had feared doing better than Dudley, as his life at Privet Drive would have been even worse than usual for a month or so, and last year he was terrified of failing and being thrown out of Hogwarts to have to return to Privet Drive. But this time was different. He had studied and revised, and he'd understand the material. He opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: A

Potions: E

Tranfiguration: O

Harry was over the moon. Perhaps Hermione was right - a bit of study didn't kill anyone and look what happened when he did. He was most proud of his Potions grade. He knew it was with help from Snape's textbook, but he'd still learnt the content and passed the exam honestly. He hoped his head of house would be pleased.

Harry looked over to the Gryffindor table. He picked out Hermione and waved at her with a big grin on his face. She waved back and mouthed "All Os!" Of course she did, Harry thought, but without malice. Hermione had studied hard and loved learning.

Professor McGonagall stood up from the staff table and headed down the Gryffindor table to where Ron and Dudley were sitting. Harry noticed, and quickly checked to see if Ron looked like he'd failed everything like the twins suggested. On the contrary, he looked ecstatic. Until Professor McGonagall talked quietly in his ear. Harry saw Ron's face drop, then he watched as Ron stood up, picked up his bag and left the great hall.

Theo, who was sitting next to Harry had noticed too.

"Any idea what that's about?" he asked.

Harry just shook his head, very confused.

* * *

Ron went down to breakfast on Monday looking forward to his exam results. Whatever the twins thought, Ron was confident he'd done well. He'd tried not to help Dudley too much and he didn't think he had. He'd only looked at the exam answers a little bit, enough to answer Dudley's questions and explain what some of them meant. He'd only helped Dudley with a bit of the enunciation and wand movements on the practical tests too. He was concerned for Dudley though. He hoped that Dudley had managed to learn enough to pass. He also hoped Dudley hadn't learnt the answers too carefully so that any of the teachers became suspicious.

Ron sat down and ate breakfast. He was just finishing when they was the noise of hundreds of owls bringing the post. The owl delivering Ron's mail waited patiently while Ron undid the letter, then it stole a piece of bacon off his plate and flew off.

Excitedly, Ron tore open the envelope:

Astronomy: O

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: E

Potions: E

Tranfiguration: O

Wow! thought Ron. He leaned over towards Dudley, "Please tell me you passed everything."

Dudley breathed out. Acceptables for everything except Charms. "Phew!" said Dudley.

"Please don't ever have to do that again." whispered Ron so only Dudley could hear.

At that point, Professor McGonagall walked towards them, her face stern. She leaned down to Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, take your things with you and report to the headmaster's office. I will be up there momentarily." Ron's stomach turned somersaults as he picked up his bag. He glanced towards the staff table. Dumbledore wasn't there. Ron headed out of the great hall and up to the headmasters' office. He knocked on the door.

"Enter." came Dumbledore's voice. Ron entered the room. "Come in, Mr. Weasley, I've been expecting you." said Dumbledore, his voice missing its usual geniality, "Professor McGonagall will be here shortly."

Ron stood nervously chewing his bottom lip in front of the headmaster's desk. Dumbledore continued with his paper work, occasionally looking up, his eye's meeting Ron's. That only served to make Ron even more nervous. Five minutes went by, in what seemed like eternity for Ron, before McGonagall entered Dumbledore's office. She carried with her a sheaf of parchments.

"Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, "Let me get straight to the point. We are concerned with your exam results. Is there anything you would like to tell us?" Ron's stomach turned an extra fast somersault. I'm dead, he thought. He shook his head.

"Perhaps I should enlighten you as to the cause of our concern." he said, holding a hand out towards Professor McGonagall, who passed him the top two parchments from her pile.

"This," he said in the tone of someone holding up Exhibit A, "is your exam paper for Astronomy. This," he said, holding up the second parchment for Ron to see, "is Professor Sinistra's questions and answers. Is there now perhaps something you wish to tell us, or shall I continue?"

Ron just stood there. I'm just so dead, he thought.

"Would you like to look at Question Five, please, Mr. Weasley?" Ron peered closer on auto-pilot, his stomach now in his mouth.

"The question asks what the brightest star in the constellation of Orion is. Professor Sinistra's answer states 'Polaris'. Would you like to read what your answer is, Mr. Weasley?" Ron shook his head slowly, his only thought having gone from 'Dead' to 'Expelled' to 'My parents are going to kill me'.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you wrote 'Polaris' too. However, here's the interesting thing, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore's voice becoming harder, "Polaris is the wrong answer. Professor Sinistra had originally wrote a different question and changed her mind, but forgot to alter the answer. Professor McGonagall picked up the error when she was checking the exam questions, and told Professor Sinistra who amended her answer. However, when she marked your paper and found the original answer she was a little suspicious."

"This wouldn't have been cause for concern, normally," continued Dumbledore affably, "There are many stars in the sky and students guess many things when they do not know an answer. However, when the professor marked the rest of your paper, it scored rather highly given your average so far this term. Professor Sinistra was intrigued. Have you done a lot of revision for your exams, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

Ron licked his lips nervously, but couldn't find the words to speak.

"Now, this is where it gets interesting," continued Dumbledore sounding conversational, "Professor Snape was just as curious about your paper for Potions. Enough that he commented in the staff common room over the holidays. I believe his actual words were 'Weasley's not a complete dunderhead, after all.' Such high praise from our esteemed potion's master. However, Mr. Weasley, it just so happened that Professor Sinistra overheard that comment, and asked if your Potions paper scored highly, and so ensued a very enlightening conversation about your exam results, joined in by many of the professors in the room at the time."

"Still nothing to say, Mr. Weasley?" asked Dumbledore, looking at Ron over his spectacles. Ron just stood there. There was nothing he could possibly say.

"Professor McGonagall is holding all of your exam papers and all of the professors' answer papers. Would you like us to show you exactly how much is the same, word for word, including another inadvertent error made by a professor?"

Dumbledore had so far been talking in a very conversational tone. It stopped.

"Explain, Mr. Weasley." he said, harshly.

There was silence in the room for a good ten seconds. "Please don't expel me." begged Ron.

"That is hardly an explanation." said Professor McGonagall. "I would like to know why a member of my house is so blatantly cheating, and more to the point, how you did it."

Ron looked at them both nervously. He was literally shaking, standing in front of Dumbledore's desk. He was so dead. He was trying to find an explanation that didn't drop Dudley in it. Dudley was his friend. He just couldn't think straight, his palms were sweaty, his pulse was racing and he was sure he could feel sweat running down his spine. I'm dead anyway, so a little bit of lie won't hurt at this point, he thought.

"I... I... wanted higher grades than last year. I was embarrassed that my friends both got better grades than me. They're both from muggle households and scored better than me." managed Ron.

"Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, very softly and very dangerously, looking Ron straight in the eyes, "I have been a teacher for decades, and headmaster for many of those. I have had many conversations with many students, often, unfortunately, when a student has done something they shouldn't. As a result, I am exceptionally good at spotting a lie. I do not like being lied to, Mr. Weasley."

Dumbledore opened a drawer of his desk, reached inside, removed a ruler and placed it on his desk. Ron's eyes widened. His brain stopped functioning. The only thing he could do was stare at the ruler. Dumbledore's voice came into focus again from great distance.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, and if you lie to me just once, you won't be sitting down for a week. What is your explanation?"

Ron closed his eyes for a moment. Dudley was never going to forgive him. He felt awful.

"Could you please not go mental until after I've told you everything?" he asked quietly.

"I think we could manage that, Mr. Weasley." said Dumbledore.

Ron opened his eyes and he started his explanation, his eyes mesmerised by the ruler on the desk.

"Dudley thought he was going to fail everything. His parents would kill him if that happened. He saw the exam papers on Professor McGonagall's desk when she was talking to him about a homework he'd stuffed up. He distracted the professor while I sneaked into her office, made a copy of the papers and hid them in my trunk. I helped Dudley revise from the papers." his answer came out in a rush, as if quicker would make it easier.

"Please, sir," Ron begged, looking at the headmaster, "I didn't mean to learn them for myself. It was for Dudley, so he could pass." Ron waited for the explosion.

Dumbledore looked over to where Professor McGonagall was standing. Ron glanced over towards her. Her lips were pursed tightly and there were red spots of anger high in her cheeks. Ron quickly stared at the floor, he had no wish to meet her gaze anytime soon, she looked so disappointed.

"Mr. Dursley again." he heard McGonagall say. Again? he thought. Hogsmeade had been ages ago, and that was the only thing Dudley had done wrong all term. You couldn't count Crabbe on the train, that'd been fair game.

Dumbledore tapped his wand on his desk and a house-elf appeared. "Please send Mr. Dursley to me, thank you." he said. The house-elf bowed and popped away. They waited in silence for five minutes while Dudley arrived. Ron was convinced it was hours. Both the professors were content to wait patiently without the need to speak or do anything, but Ron was a fidgeting mess, he just couldn't seem to stand still. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, put his hands in his pockets, took them out again, and even started to chew a fingernail until Dumbledore fixed him with a look and out of sheer terror he froze on the spot.

There was a knock on the door and Dumbledore called for Dudley to enter.

The first thing that Ron noticed about Dudley was that he wasn't nervous. How did his friend do that? Surely he knew that the game was up. There was only one reason for Professor McGonagall to send Ron to the headmaster's office the morning they received their results, and they both knew what that was. Why was Dudley not nervous at all? Ron made a mental note not to ever gamble with Dudley. He'd lose.

"Mr. Dursley, Mr. Weasley was just informing me of the cause of his high grades. Is there anything you wish to add?"

Ron was shocked when Dudley said, "Sir, I don't understand. Ron revised with Hermione, Neville and P...Harry, I don't know what you want me to add." Dudley's eyes rested momentarily on the ruler on Dumbledore's desk, he grimaced, and then he looked at Ron. "Ron, I don't understand." he said, sounding confused.

Ron went red. He thought that Dudley was trying to give him a get out, not knowing that Ron had already dropped them both in hot water. "I'm sorry, mate, I had to tell them." he said in a quiet, strangled voice.

"Tell them what?" Dudley asked.

"The truth." said Ron, heavily, "That you distracted Professor McGonagall while I nicked the papers out of the office so that you could revise to pass your exams. I'm sorry, I even said that it's because your folks would go mental."

"I don't know what you're talking about." said Dudley. Ron's jaw dropped incredulously. "I didn't know that you stole papers from Professor McGonagall's office."

"Oh, God! Ron! Tell me when you helped me, those notes were yours!" he exclaimed, sounding the perfect innocent. He turned to McGonagall, "Professor, believe me, I didn't know!"

"Dudley, what the f..." started Ron taken aback, before catching Dumbledore's eye and stopping the next word out of his mouth. "We're caught. Admit it." he said resignedly.

"I didn't do anything." said Dudley, looking confused.

Ron's sudden anger at Dudley broke through. He didn't care where he was. The fact that he was standing in front of Dumbledore's desk and anything other than polite and contrite would get him his backside handed to him momentarily slipped his mind.

"You complete bastard!" he yelled and lunged towards Dudley, grabbing the other boy's robes near the collar, pushing him backwards. He felt a hand grabbing the collar of his own clothes, pulling him backwards, but neither professor had moved, only Dumbledore's wand, which was now pointing at them both.

"I tried to help you! You said your parents would kill you! You even said that's what happened to Harry last year! It was all your bloody idea!"

"I did no such thing!" protested Dudley, "You cheated and now you're blaming me. If you stole answers from Professor McGonagall's office and used them to cheat that's all on you. Keep me out of it!"

"I cared about you!" Ron was now shouting at Dudley, "The twins and Harry," Ron's voice caught in his throat, "Were right about you. You can take our friendship and shove it up your arse!"

"If you're going to treat me like that, I don't need your friendship!" retorted Dudley hotly in the light of his burning bridges. "I'll be fine on my own!"

Into the silence that followed in which all you could hear was Ron's ragged breathing, Dumbledore coughed. "When you've both quite finished..."

Ron's terror returned, added to by his brain kindly listing all the interesting words he'd just used in from the headmaster.

"Ron," said Dumbledore calmly, "Where are the exam answers now?"

"Dudley took them," said Ron dully, then his brain caught up, "He's got them in his trunk!" he said triumphantly.

"I do not!" said Dudley in affronted tones.

"Then you won't mind if we had a look, would you?" replied Dumbledore. He tapped his wand on his desk again. He sent the summoned house-elf to fetch both the boys' trunks. The elf-popped away and reappeared ten seconds later with both trunks, which the house-elf made reappear at their owners' feet. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the trunks which sprang open. McGonagall looked carefully through Dudley's trunk and Dumbledore looked through Ron's. The only item of interest found was one parchment from the Transfiguration paper in Ron's trunk.

It was Dudley's turn to look triumphant, "Told you." he said.

Dumbledore sat back down in his chair, and McGonagall in one of the chairs next to the headmaster's desk. He looked at Ron sadly.

"Mr. Weasley, by your own admission you went into Professor McGonagall's office and stole the papers. You also admitted to copying them. You then admitted to revising from them. One of the papers was found in your trunk. Your grades and the answers on your papers prove you cheated. There is, onthe other hand, no evidence to suggest that Mr. Dursley did any of those things."

If looks could kill, the look Ron gave Dudley should by rights have had Dudley lying on the floor as dead as a doornail.

"I have no other choice than to dismiss Mr. Dursley back to class and to summon your parents to school. Mr. Dursley, you may go. Your trunk will be returned to your dormitory."

Dudley cast one short glance at Ron and quickly left the office. Dumbledore studied Ron for a moment or two.

"Mr. Weasley, I believe everything you have said to us. Mr. Dursley has before shown himself a liar before, however proving he is lying this time is more difficult. It does not however negate the fact that you stole papers from Professor McGonagall's office and you cheated in school exams. I'm afraid I will be summoning your parents. You will be suspended for a period of one week."

Dumbledore rose and went to his floo to call the Burrow. Ron winced. He could hear his mother very clearly from where he was standing. Not long after, Ron was trying to avoid the gaze of a very angry parent.

"Ronald Bilious Weasley, how dare you do such a deplorable thing!" raged his mother. Ron was momentarily saved from answering by Arthur who had flooed from the ministry. Dumbledore took the opportunity to cut Molly off.

"Molly, Arthur, I'm glad you could come. Please take a seat." The Weasley parents sat down in the chairs next to where Professor McGonagall was sitting. "I have the unfortunate job of informing you that I have had to suspend Ron for one week. He is welcome back in school on Sunday evening for dinner. I must inform you that Ron's grades indicated that something more than hard revision caused his end of term grades to be higher than expected. Ron has admitted to stealing the papers from his head of house's office and using them to learn answers."

Arthur, who was uninformed of the situation, as Molly had floo called him only to say to come to Hogwarts, turned to look at Ron. Ron tried to take up less room and disappear through the floor. He felt very vulnerable standing there surrounded by four disappointed adults, two of whom were very angry.

"However, in his defence, and the only reason he isn't on the receiving end of further punishment," he said, glancing down at the ruler on his desk, a look which the Weasley parents did not miss, "he was duped into doing so. Although misguided, his heart was in the right place. He was trying to prevent another student, a friend, from failing his exams."

"Is Harry not doing well?" asked Molly, quickly jumping to the wrong conclusion. Ron flushed, feeling ashamed.

"Mr. Potter is in no way involved in this." said the headmaster.

Both of his parents looked at Ron in askance. Ron just flushed further and looked at his shoes.

"That is, however, no excuse for theft and cheating." said Arthur sternly eyeing his son.

Dumbledore inclined his head, "Hence the suspension. I'm sure a week at home to think on his actions will show him how poor his decisions were." he said. "Perhaps while at home, Ron could also consider appropriate language to use." added Dumbledore. Ron went beet red.

"I'm sure Ron's thinking will be concentrated due to the fact that he'll be doing it with a sore behind." said Arthur darkly. Ron winced. His father hardly ever laid a hand on his children. His mother was the one to give a swat or two with her wooden spoon. But when he did feel the need to chastise his children they were always very sorry afterwards. Just ask the twins after they tried to make him make an unbreakable vow!

The Weasleys rose. "It was nice to see you Albus, even though it was not in the best of circumstances." said Molly. "Ron will be back at school late Sunday afternoon." A glance at Ron had him scurrying to the floo, not wishing to anger his parents further.

The Weasleys flooed back to the Burrow leaving the two professors alone in Dumbledore's office.

"Will we ever find evidence against Mr. Dursley?" asked McGonagall.

"Not unless he does something stupid, " replied Dumbledore, "And unfortunately he seemed a bit too good at this game to do that."

"You've put your finger on it there," replied McGonagall, "To him, it's a game, he plays with his so-called friends as if they are pawns. I hope one day it comes back to bite him."

"We'll just have to be more vigilant." said Dumbledore.

McGonagall nodded, then left the headmasters office to teach the remainder of her day's classes.

* * *

Late that evening, Dudley went up to his dorm. He was annoyed. He wasn't annoyed that Ron had tried to drop him in it. He'd made sure at the time that nothing was traceable back to him. It was more that he'd lost the convenience of having Ron around. Ron had been good for a laugh, good to work with and copy off in classes, good for backup when making fun of the first years and more than anything, good for proving to the freak that he could take his friends. Now he'd lost that advantage. He kicked his trunk open spitefully, picked up the top item and threw it against the wall in frustration.

It just so happened that at the item he picked up was Ginny's diary. He found himself thinking back to when he'd first written in it. It had introduced itself. He'd been sure it was supposed to be for Ginny so he'd written that he was Ginny. The confusing part had been when the diary had written back.

He'd first thought that it was the wizard equivalent of a computer game. Like the ones where you've got to solve a puzzle or go on a quest by asking questions and writing your responses and there was a story. But then he realised that it asked him lots of questions instead. Dudley never liked being asked questions. Questions lead to answers and Dudley never wanted to admit what he did with his time. Adults wouldn't like the answer. So Dudley had developed a habit of answering questions with his own questions.

But the diary had asked him questions back too. He remembered reading in a computer magazine about a computer that was an artificial intelligence that was programmed to mimic a person and people had to have a conversation with it to try to decide if they were talking to a person or the computer. That's how his conversation with the diary felt. Who was he? (Ginny) Where was he? (Hogwarts) Then the diary had asked lots of things about Hogwarts. If it had been a computer, Dudley would have said someone had programmed it with information about Hogwarts so that it sounded real.

But then Dudley had got suspicious. It had started to ask him about Dumbledore. It seemed scarily a bit more human then. The handwriting had changed. If it was a person writing you'd say the script was agitated. Dudley had got a bit too freaked out, not that he'd admit that to anyone, thrown the diary back in his trunk and ignored it. He'd gone home for Christmas, and he'd been spoilt by his parents making a fuss of him, making sure they fed him all his favourite food and buying him more Christmas presents then they'd ever done in the past.

But now, here was the diary again. Dudley was bored. He had no-one to be with to amuse him, so he thought he might work out what the diary was about. Why had Mr. Malfoy slipped it into Ginny's things? Why did it seem so human? He reached for his quill, opened the diary and started to write.

"Back at school after the Christmas break."

"Hello, Ginny, how are you? You've not written to me in ages." said the diary, the words fading into the pages.

"I went to a muggle household at Christmas, so I couldn't write," wrote Dudley, "I thought someone might peek at what I'd written."

"I'd never talk to anyone but you," crooned the diary, "You're special." Dudley felt a slight tingly sensation and he shuddered. Weird, he thought.

"But I'm back now. What do you want to know?" he wrote.

"Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" the diary asked.

"No." wrote Dudley, "What's that? It sounds interesting."

"It's a very interesting place," the diary wrote back, "Let's go see it!"

"Not after curfew. I might get caught." said Dudley, knowing that if he were caught he would be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

"You know you want to!" said the diary. The handwriting was writing in italics, emphasising the words, "I can show you where it is. Just put me in your pocket and go to the second floor."

Dudley felt for a moment an irresistible urge to do as instructed, but a bit of his brain overrode the command.

"Come on, Ginny, go now!" and suddenly the compulsion to go was gone, he wasn't Ginny. Feeling like someone had walked on his grave, he shivered, snapped the diary shut and threw it back in his trunk. That thing's just odd, he thought. Fascinating, but odd.

Like he did after watching a scary movie, he decided to write in the diary next time when it was light outside, not alone in a silent dorm with only his own imagination around. As he closed his trunk he could have sworn the diary had an sense of darkness about it. If it were an artificial intelligence, it would have been annoyed that it had been switched off for another night.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The twins' revenge

On Monday after class Harry met his friends in the library as usual.

"What happened to Ron at breakfast?" asked Fred. "No-one seems to know. A first year at the table at breakfast heard McGonagall send him to Dumbledore's office, and no-one's seen him since."

"He wasn't in any classes, nor at lunch." confirmed Hermione.

As much as Ron had been a complete idiot over the whole Dudley situation, the twins were clearly concerned about their brother, as were Harry, Hermione and Neville about their friend.

"Should one of us try to get the answer out of McGonagall?" asked George, looking like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Not if her mood hasn't improved since class this afternoon." said Fred. "She nearly took points off us for our usual sense of humour, and she never does that. Something's upset her."

"I asked last time." said Hermione, clearly not wanting to repeat that experience.

"Last time?" asked Harry.

"After you went to Hogsmeade. I went to find out if you were OK as you were called away from the library by Madame Pince and we hadn't spoken to you for the rest of the day."

"That was brave. She would not have been in a good mood." said Harry, remembering that day vividly.

"I can do it." interjected Neville quietly. They all turned to look at him. Sometimes they forgot how brave Neville could be, like at the end of last year, but then he went and said something like that.

"It's your funeral." said Fred, who got elbowed by George and scowled at by Hermione.

"No, it won't be. She's always kind to me, even though I really can mess up my lessons. She has a lot of patience and time for me. I'll go."

"Thanks, Neville." said Harry simply, and everyone nodded.

"I won't be long. I'll be back in a bit." said Neville, standing up to go before he scared himself out of it. Saying he wasn't scared was one thing. Not actually being scared was another.

The group did their homework while waiting for Neville to return. After half an hour Neville rejoined them with news.

"Ron's been suspended." he said, waiting for the twins to go mental.

"He's what?" exclaimed George, at the same time Fred said, "What for?"

"I went to McGonagall's office and she wasn't really that surprised to see me. She said she wondered which one of us would turn up at her door. She said she thought it would have been Harry." said Neville feeling pleased with himself for going.

"She said Ron has been suspended for one week until Sunday afternoon for cheating in his exams."

Hermione gasped. Cheating in exams was a concept she had trouble dealing with, but for Ron to do it, she was shocked beyond belief.

"Are they sure it was him?" she asked.

"McGonagall said he admitted he'd cheated. She seemed to want to say more, but she didn't."

"Erm... did anything else happen to Ron?" asked Fred, looking a bit concerned.

"She didn't say so." replied Neville, knowing exactly what he meant.

"No wonder he thought the exams were easy." said George, remembering what Ron had said before the holidays.

"I've had an idea." said Fred. "What if we write to him. Mum will know it's us mailing him, she knows our scrawl, so she'll either write back herself and say that we can't talk to him, or Ron will be able to write to us. Hopefully that'll save us waiting for Sunday for the whole story."

"Good plan." said Harry. "How were you going to phrase your letter? I mean, you can't just say, 'Hey, Ron, heard you were suspended, what's that about?' can you?"

"Can't we?" asked Fred. "That's what I was going to write." he said with a cheeky grin.

Tuesday evening, the group met again in the library, the twins bringing with them a letter.

"Mum let Ron write to us." said George. "But she said if she caught one whiff of us in anyway being supportive of him cheating or thinking it was 'cool' she'd turn up at Hogwarts faster than you can say floo to 'disabuse us of that notion'. Some days that woman scares the pants off me. She also said only we could write to him. He's been suspended, so not writing to his friends is part of his punishment."

"Get on with it then and let me see it," butted in Hermione, clearly agitated to find out about Ron.

"OK, keep your hair on." said George. "We've already read it," he said, passing her the letter, "But you could read it out loud to save time while the others read it, if you like."

"Hi, Gred and Forge," read out Hermione, rolling her eyes at the greeting, "I'm in deep shit. I got suspended for a week for cheating on my exams. I went into McGonagall's office and copied the papers to help Dudley pass his exams. He said his parents would kill him if he didn't pass. I helped him a bit, but I didn't realise I'd learnt so much of the answers while doing it and my marks were high enough to cause a lot of professors to think I'd cheated. I told Dumbledore everything this morning and Mum and Dad came to school to bring me home. They are not happy with me at all. I'm grounded to my room and Dad put me over his knee. I didn't realise he had such a hard hand!"

"The worst part is that I tried to defend Dudley, but Dumbledore forced me to admit why I'd done it. When they accused Dudley of having anything to do with it he denied everything. They didn't find any papers in his trunk, just one page in mine. I think they believed me about trying to help Dudley an dnot myself, but I don't understand why. McGonagall seemed very quick to think that Dudley had done stuff like this before."

"Dudley made me take the blame for all this, so I'm totally over him. He's probably gloating about it with a new friend as I write this. What a complete bastard!"

"You tried to tell me about him. I didn't listen. Please tell Harry I'm sorry. Ron." finished Hermione, then passed the letter to Harry.

"Harry," said George, "perhaps it's time to tell Ron why Dudley's a complete arse. He knows about Hogsmeade, but not about anything else."

"Dudley got into trouble before Christmas with someone for something." said Fred, "he was squirming on his chair at dinner one evening. I know Ron tried to find out about that, but he wasn't sharing. Anything to put Dudley in a bad light would work about now. "

"And make Ron just a bit more guilty." said Fred, not sounding like this was a bad thing.

Harry had hoped the snowball incident might stay quiet, but perhaps it was better if his friends knew everything.

"Write and tell Ron the truth. He deserves to know." Harry said slowly, looking at the table so he didn't quite meet his friends' eyes. He was embarrassed about talking about any of it. "Tell him that Dudley framed me for spiking the coffee in the staff common room. He disguised himself as me using Polyjuice, stole my wand and used it to gain access. The portraits saw 'me', and Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape all believed I was lying when I said I didn't do it." His friends gasped. Harry had never shared with any of them exactly what happened before.

"I think Ron knows about Hogsmeade, so you needn't tell him that. But Snape investigated and once he knew Dudley had used Polyjuice, he somehow got him to admit that the coffee incident was him too. Dudley and I had a brief fight before Christmas. He threw an iceball at my face so I punched him. Flitwick caught us before it got out of hand. As we'd been seen, Dudley couldn't deny any of it, though he tried. McGonagall handed Dudley over to Snape for punishment. That's why he wasn't sitting comfortably at dinner that evening."

Out of morbid fascination George asked, "Did you get away with punching Dudley?"

"What do you think?" Harry replied with a certain amount of good humour. "But I'm fairly sure Dudley got it worse than me." he added. "You can also tell Ron that although no-one can prove it, he also broke my broom, the one McGonagall gave me last year, and he was the one who swapped my quill in Potions. At the time I know Ron didn't think it was Dudley, but I know damn well it was."

"It might take time to persuade Ron of something," said Fred, "But once he knows something, it sticks. He now knows Dudley a complete bastard, and more examples will only support what we've told him all along. I don't think Dudley's going to be on his Christmas card list next year."

"Thanks for telling us what happened with the Polyjuice." said Hermione. "We've all wanted to know, but we've not wanted to ask."

"And you really should have punched him harder." said Fred. "There must be a limit to what bruise balm can heal, you should have tried to find it!"

The atmosphere lightened somewhat. Harry was embarrassed telling his friends things, but it was easier now that they knew.

On Wednesday after classes the twins came up to the library again, this time empty-handed.

"We told him everything." said Fred. "I don't know if we went too far though. Ron hasn't replied."

"He will, or he'll return to school with a completely changed mind about Dudley" said Hermione with conviction. "He's our friend and your brother."

"Speaking of brothers and brotherly acts," said Fred, looking at Harry, "You're like a brother to us, and as Ron isn't here this week, we feel that some retribution towards Dudley is in order. For both the things he's done to you and getting Ron suspended. We were thinking of hexing him. Two hexes in particular. You know the ones we mean." he said.

Vindictiveness wasn't a feeling Harry was used to. But then neither was having support from people who said he was like family.

"Just don't get caught." was all he said, smiling at the twins.

On Thursday, Dudley had a bad day. He was eating breakfast talking with Cormac McLaggen when suddenly, mid-sentence he couldn't speak. He grasped his throat and gargled a lot. McLaggen shouted, "Professor!" looking towards the head table. Minerva came hurrying over. She might not like the boy, but that didn't mean she was about to let him choke to death over breakfast. Imagine the paperwork! Just as she reached Dudley, inexplicably the boy was able to speak. The three of them looked down the length of the table. The twins were trying and nearly succeeding to look innocent while getting on with their breakfast. McGonagall vanished all Dudley's food, told him to watch what he ate next time, and walked away.

If that had been the only time it happened that day, everyone might have forgotten about it, but throughout the day, on corridors between classes, Dudley was suddenly unable to talk. Then, just as fast as it happened, it stopped.

By the time the end of the day's class came round Dudley was ready to punch someone. He'd thought it had been the food he ate at breakfast, but the other times sometimes he was eating and sometimes he wasn't. Someone was hexing him, and he just couldn't tell who. The corridors were all crowded, it could have been anyone.

It happened again. Only this time there were less people around. He was in the entrance hall and there was a lot more space around him. He heard sniggering from behind him. He turned round, still unable to speak, and saw the twins. He launched himself towards them like an enraged bull, his scream silent due to his tongue being stuck to the roof of his mouth. One of them pointed his wand at him and said something he didn't catch, and suddenly he found himself upside down as if an invisible force had picked him up by one ankle and was dangling him in the air.

Suddenly everyone in sight was laughing at him. He was turning redder and redder from being upside down. He wanted to scream threats of retribution at the twins but couldn't, still unable to speak.

Just as quickly as the laughter started, it stopped.

"Misters Weasley." a silky voice spoke. The twins went pale. "Liberacorpus!" Dudley dropped towards the floor. The entrance hall was much taller than a standard room or corridor and Dudley was terrified as he fell towards the floor. He came to a halt two inches from the ground, then was dropped the rest of the way. He quickly scrambled to his feet and turned to the source of the voice. Professor Snape hadn't taken his eyes off the twins, even though his wand was pointed at Dudley. "Finite incantatem." Snape said. Dudley licked his lips and was about to speak.

"Misters Weasley. Come with me." and without even a glance towards Dudley he turned back the way he came, heading towards his office. The twins had no choice but to follow.

Snape moved quickly towards his office, his expression clearing the corridors faster than words could. By the time the twins reached his office, the professor was already inside, however he had left the door open.

"Come in." he said darkly. When the twins entered, Snape was looking at the books on his shelf. He turned, walked to his desk and sat down. The twins stood in front of his desk. Snape looked at them for longer than was comfortable.

"Where is it?" he asked, quietly and deliberately.

Fred had opened his mouth anticipating to have to defend their actions, but the question caught him unawares. "Where's what?" he said, surprised. Further staring. "Sir." he added hurriedly.

"Please don't play innocent. Just tell me where it is." Snape repeated.

"Um. Sir. We don't know what you're talking about." said George, equally confused.

"Then let me try a different question," said Snape, "Where did you get those spells from?"

Both twins thought that Snape looked mad. Not mad like usual when they played silly beggars in his class, but like really mad. The sort of mad that made denying all knowledge a suicide mission. They exchanged a look with each other.

"Levicorpus we got from a parchment in the library. Langlock we got from Malfoy." said Fred.

"Please, don't think me an imbecile, gentlemen. Try again. This time try the truth. Where did you get those spells from?"

"Sir, that is the truth." protested George.

"Malfoy? Really? You expect me to believe a Slytherin told that spell to two Gryffindors with a penchant for pranking?"

"We over heard him talking to Crabbe and Goyle." said Fred.

"Then you won't mind if we take a trip to your dormitory then, would you." said Snape, to the twins' momentary confusion about the change in location. "Come."

He marched them into the Gryffindor common room and up to their dormitory. There were already two boys in the dorm when they arrived. "Out." he said to them. Compliance was immediate. "Where are your things?" he demanded. George pointed to their beds. Snape flipped open their trunks, pointed his wand and said "Accio Potions books." Two fourth year Potions textbooks flew to his hand, but nothing else. He turned and glowered at the twins again. "When I find it, you will be very sorry indeed." He dropped the books on the nearest bed, then turned on his heel and stalked out.

The twins looked at each other very confused. "Did we just get away with hanging Dudley up by the ankle in front of everyone?" asked Fred.

"I have no idea." replied George.

* * *

Snape left his last class of the day with a sigh of relief. First years certainly were hard work. They just didn't think. He was convinced they left their brains at the door of his room at the start of the lesson. He'd left the dungeons and taken the long way back to the staff common room. At the end of the day, especially the first week back, there was usually more chaos and exuberance, and staff presence around the place helped calm things down. As he headed down the stairs to the entrance hall he heard a commotion and a lot of laughter. When he rounded the last turn in the stairs he saw in front of him Dudley Dursley hanging by one ankle near the ceiling trying to talk and the Weasley twins grinning with their wands out.

Levicorpus! How had that spell made its way here? That was his spell. He'd created it! And the boy's inability to speak, Langlock was his too! He knew that Levicorpus had been popular for a couple of months back when he was in school after he was accidentally overheard casting it, and for a few weeks you couldn't move without seeing someone dangling by their ankle. But he hadn't see that spell at Hogwarts for years. He knew a couple of death eaters knew it and perhaps had passed it on to their progeny, but for the twins to know it? And Langlock at the same time? That was a mystery.

"Misters Weasley." The twins went a very satisfying shade of white when they was him. He slowly descended the stairs thinking. How could the twins find both of the spells.? One, maybe. But two? He paused mid-step. He'd written them in his book! It was in his office on the shelf. Had they been in his office? They must have been, there was no other way. Anger took over. The invasion of his privacy. The stealing of his things. Pawing through his personal possessions. They would pay dearly.

"Liberacorpus!" Dursley dropped like a stone, but he hadn't taken his eyes off the twins, nor they him. Out of his peripheral vision he noted when the boy was just inches from the hard stone floor and stopped his descent. Then he silently cast a spell to drop him the rest of the way. The whale deserved no sympathy from anyone. Hopefully he'd had time to register that he was falling before Snape had stopped him. I'm too kind sometimes, he thought.

The boy still couldn't speak fortunately. If only he could leave him that way. Dumbledore might not appreciate that level of public humiliation though. "Finite incantatem." said Snape, only his wand moved toward the boy. His eyes never left the twins. They were beginning to look very worried and exceedingly guilty. Excellent.

"Misters Weasley. Come with me." and Snape turned and march away, not waiting to hear the litany of complaints from the Dursley boy. His rage came back. If I get to my office and find my book missing, so Merlin help me, he thought. He stalked through the corridors scattered students without noticing them. His office door flew open with one flick of his wand and he went straight to his bookshelf. There was no space there, but neither was there the book he was looking for. He heard the twins arrive.

"Come in." he growled. He went to sit at his desk. A desk between them would be beneficial. If not, he'd take hold of the nearest twin and put the boy over his knee until he howled.

"Where is it?" he demanded.

He nearly got up and spanked the boy there and then when Fred said "Where's what?" He eyes grew colder. The boy had the self-preservation to realise that manners might not be a bad idea about now and added an honorific to his sentence.

"Please don't play innocent. Just tell me where it is." It amazed him that he managed to sound so calm. That he even managed the word please. It also surprised him that he wanted his book back more than to punish the offenders. He'd said 'just'. That book was his. He'd written in it. He'd improved it. He'd spent time and care experimenting. Some of the doodles in the margins were things he'd invented before his sixth year and were written there in a moment of daydreaming in a boring lesson, but the annotations on the potions he occasionally still referenced. He suddenly stopped that thought and went back to the previous one. The doodles in the margins. The hexes he'd written. Oh Merlin, don't let that fall into the hands of a mere boy, Snape prayed to the universe at large. He had to get his book back.

He looked more carefully at the twins' faces. He'd been teaching along time. He'd heard denials that were lies and denials that were the truth. He rarely got the two mixed up. Although, he internally scolded himself, he'd done a poor job with Harry earlier in the year. The twins did look confused, and given the nature of these two Gryffindors, they usually confessed when cornered.

When questioned about their source they seemed to be telling the truth, although that was confusing for Snape. Getting Levicorpus from Malfoy wouldn't have been beyond believable, it was one of Lucius' favourites for death eater attacks. Lucius could easily have shown it to Draco, but to claim that that one came from the library and Langlock came from Malfoy that was strange. Snape was unaware of Lucius ever learning of that spell. In fact, he was unaware of anyone learning that spell. So he was back to someone having his book. Had someone had his book in the library and written down the spells? Did Malfoy have the book? He'd certainly been in here often enough. But rifling through his Head of House's possessions didn't seem Malfoy's thing.

He was going to search through the twins' possessions anyway. When they got up to Gryffindor tower the Fat Lady saw him coming and opening the portrait. He marched straight up to the fourth year dorms and hardly noticed as he threw out the two boys already there. On looking through their trunks and not finding what he was looking for he turned to the twins. They genuinely looked confused. He'd deliberately not mentioned the exact item he wanted. If they knew what he meant then they knew, but if they didn't, he didn't want them to know either. They didn't seem worried about him searching their things, but they didn't seem to be hiding the book elsewhere either. They didn't seem nervous enough.

He left them with a warning. He debated giving them detention with Filch or scrubbing his classroom for their prank on Dursley. He couldn't abide public humiliation of students by other students, and even tried not to be too harsh when he did it himself. Private humiliation, that was different. But there had been far too many things the callous little brat had done to earn support or defence from Snape. So he just walked out of their dorm.

* * *

Snape returned to his office to ponder some more on the problem. The twins went up to the library. Hermione, Harry and Neville were there.

"You will never guess what just happened." said George.

"Oh my God, are you both still alive?" exclaimed Harry. "We heard from Seamus that Snape caught you both hanging Dudley up in the entrance hall."

"Surprisingly, yes. We didn't even get a detention." said Fred, "Although I'm not sure he's not going to spring a surprise detention on us just when we think we're safe." he added.

"It was weird though." said George. "He wanted to know where something was. We've no idea what though."

"What do you mean?" asked Neville.

"When we got to his office he was looking at his bookshelf. He asked us where something was. Then he marched us up to our dorm and searched our things. He accio'd our Potions texts, but then seemed to not want them. He just dropped them on the bed. Then he left without saying another word. Weird, right?"

"Very." said Hermione. "Harry? He's your head of house, any ideas?"

Now it was Harry's turn to act strange. "No, no." he said distantly as if thinking about something else, "Um. I've got to go. I've just remembered something." he said lamely, and ran out before they could question him further.

"What's got into everyone today?!" said Fred to the table in general.

Harry ran to his dorm room and looked in the bottom of his trunk. Thank Merlin, the book was still there and nothing looked disturbed. He had to get rid of it. He considered sneaking it out of the common room and putting it in a bin at the far side of school, but he couldn't do it. It was Snape's book. The man had carefully crafted notes in there. He respected him too much to throw away his things. He briefly thought about trying to return it to his office when the man wasn't looking, but that idea was laughable. He gave that about a one percent chance of success. The other ninety nine ended with him over Snape's knee for theft.

Then an idea struck him. Get it off the premises. Send it somewhere. Give it to Hedwig to send somewhere safe. He couldn't send it to Privet Drive, and the only person he knew in the wizarding world not at school was Mrs. Figg. He thought about it, but she was a bit nuts and might not keep it safe. That's it! he thought, mail it to the goblins to put in his vault. They were secretive about everything. Just mail it to them, with his vault number and signature and they'd put it in there safe. That would work. He quickly wrapped up the book and addressed the parcel. He hid it in his robes and went down to the common room. There was still twenty minutes before dinner. Time enough to get to the owlery, and at this time of day people were in and out of the common room all the time, no-one would notice.

He slipped out and got to the owlery without incident. Hedwig woke up and nibbled his ear affectionately. She looked at him with reproach on seeing the size of the parcel, but dutifully took it with a hoot and flew off. Harry made it back to Slytherin in time to go for dinner with everyone else, no-one the wiser about where he'd just been.

* * *

While Harry was at the owlery, Snape had come to a decision. He'd search the boys' dorms starting with the second years', specifically Malfoy's. He certainly didn't want the aggravation of them finding out about the search right now, he wasn't in the mood, so instead of announcing a contraband search like he usually did, he'd search now and tell them afterwards. They knew he did random searches, so it wasn't anything new.

So he went dorm by dorm, starting with Malfoy's. But however many Accios he cast, the only Potions books he got were regulation. Still irritated at the loss of a prize possession, he went to dinner.

* * *

Dudley was angry. He'd been humiliated in front of everyone in the entrance hall, which was quite a large number of people, and to make things worse, they'd been from all the houses and all the years. Everyone knew. What was worse though, was the fact that Snape hadn't done anything to the twins, at least not in his hearing. Add to that the fact that if he got back at the twins and was caught, he'd regret it. He was not popular with the faculty at the moment.

He didn't want human company that evening, so he went up to his dorm. He got out the diary and started to write.

"Today was a shit day. Tell me something interesting." he wrote. He was fed up of the diary questioning him. This way he might learn something about Hogwarts he could against someone. There must be some useful information in it somewhere.

"I was telling you about the Chamber of Secrets. Would you like to know more?" the diary asked. Strangely it didn't ask him if he wanted to go there, perhaps it measured his response from last time in some way and had backed off a bit.

"Yes. What is it?" Dudley wrote.

"It's a place for the Heir of Slytherin." wrote the diary. "It has a guardian. Do you know what a basilisk is, Ginny?"

"No." wrote Dudley.

"It's the king of serpents. Its gaze can kill. Just ask Myrtle Warren. She was so shocked."

"Can a basilisk talk?" wrote Dudley, being careful to pretend to still be Ginny.

"Only to a parselmouth, which you are not, pure-blood thought the Weasleys are." replied the diary.

Dudley was suddenly suspicious. How did the diary know the Weasleys are pure-bloods. It had Hogwarts information in it, but why information about the Weasleys. Did the diary think? Learn? Was it in some way real?

"Are you real?" Dudley wrote.

"I am a soul trapped in a book. My book. You can talk to me, Ginny Weasley, it will make me feel alive again. Would you like to see the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Where is it?" Dudley wrote.

"The entrance is in the girl's bathroom on the second floor. There's a sink. I would have to help you open it as you are not a parselmouth."

"Not today. But later." Dudley wrote, before closing the book.

When the book was back in the bottom of his trunk he thought he might find someone to talk to about books that contain memories. Perhaps Cormac would know? Cormac once talked with him about dark magic. Was this dark magic? How could he tell?

He started to do his homework, then got sidetracked plotting revenge on the twins. Before he knew it, the other boys were coming to bed. He fell asleep thinking of revenge.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Chamber of Secrets is opened

On the Saturday before the end of Ron's suspension, Dudley was bored. He'd been bored all day. Usually on a Saturday he'd have Ron to entertain him, but today he just had himself. And without his muggle toys and video games, he wasn't good company. By the time the afternoon came round he was bored enough to write in the diary again.

He had asked Cormac yesterday about dark magic and whether a person could 'live' in a diary. Cormac had shrugged. People 'live' in portraits didn't they, and they were harmless? Some of the portraits were friendlier than others, so perhaps the person in Dudley's diary was just like that.

That had seemed reasonable to Dudley, so he decided to write in it again. It would also explain why it knew about Hogwarts. The Hogwarts portraits knew all about the place, so if the diary had been here since Lucius Malfoy had been a student here, then it stood to reason it would know about the place. But why did Mr. Malfoy want Ginny to write in it? That remained a mystery.

"Why do you want me to go to the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked the diary.

"Because it's an interesting place. You'll feel powerful." replied the diary.

Powerful? Dudley thought.

"What do you mean, powerful?" he asked.

"You'll feel as if you're king of the world. No-one will be able to bully you, no-one will best you. You will feel in charge. The chamber was built by Salazar Slytherin himself. One day it will be opened by his heir, but until then, you may visit if you speak parseltongue." replied the diary.

"Sounds nice after the time I've had here." Dudley replied.

"Hogwarts is a nice place." said the diary. "You just have to know how to deal with people."

"How should I deal with people then?" asked Dudley.

"Power. Make people afraid of you. Be in charge. The Chamber will help you do that." wrote the diary.

"Maybe I should go this evening after curfew." wrote Dudley. He liked the idea of power. I understood about people being afraid of him. It was how he made friends. He'd always been bigger than the other children and he'd always used that to his advantage. If the chamber could do that better than he could already... well then...what was there to lose?

"Remember to put the diary in your pocket. I can help you with parseltongue when we get there, Ginny."

Dudley closed the book. He had no intention whatsoever of taking the diary anywhere. Anytime it tried to tell him to do something he felt a bit weird, then it called him Ginny and he didn't feel weird anymore. He'd go, take a look and sneak back after curfew. How big was a basilisk anyway? Piers' corn snake was only a foot long. Even the boa constrictor in the zoo had only been around four feet, although if you asked Piers it had been more like forty feet.

That evening Dudley waited until nearly curfew, then slipped out of Gryffindor tower to the girls' bathroom on the second floor. Before Christmas he'd overheard a couple of girls complaining about the place, that there was a ghost and the place was always flooded. They'd said no-one liked using it, so hopefully he could hide in there until curfew and then investigate when he knew no-one would come in.

When he got there he heard a watery noise from inside one of the cubicles. He hid in one of the others to wait for the girl to leave, but the sounds continued.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"Ooooh, a boy in the girls' bathroom!" said a reedy voice from the stall.

"Who's there?" asked Dudley, more forcefully.

"It's only me. It's only ever me, no-one comes to talk to me anymore. Not since Olive Hornby left school at any rate. The rest of you just walk right through me. See?"

Dudley got the shock of his life when a girl dressed in Hogwarts uniform came through the wall of his cubicle. Literally. Through the wall.

"Who the hell are you?" he yelled, climbing quickly onto the toilet in an attempt to get away.

"I'm just Myrtle, silly. This is my bathroom."

"Your..."

"Yes, my bathroom. I died here, so it's mine. Horrible it was. A great big pair of yellow eyes, and that was it. It was all peaceful after that."

"How did you die in a bathroom?" asked Dudley, his curiosity taking over, along with a certain sense of self-preservation.

"Eyes came from that sink over there," she said pointing, "and then I don't remember anything else."

Dudley went to investigate the sinks. After a careful inspection, one of them had a tiny engraving of a snake on a copper tap. Was this the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets? A second floor girls' bathroom? Well it was well camouflaged at any rate, he thought appreciatively.

The diary had said he would need a parselmouth to enter. He hadn't brought the book with him, he found it too demanding, even if it was telling him interesting things about the school. He certainly wasn't going to have it dictate what he spoke, and it weirded him out too, although he wasn't about to admit that to himself.

He spoke at the tap, "Door." nothing happened. His voice sounded normal, not snaky enough to have been parseltongue. Perhaps if he pictured Piers' snake first, "Doorsss." he hissed. Nothing happened, but it was definitely parseltongue.

"Opensss!" he tried. The tap glowed white and sink began to move, exposing the end of a large pipe. He detected movement down the pipe and he turned his back on the sink and ran for the toilet he'd hid in when he first entered the bathroom. He slipped in a puddle on his way and fell forward, banging his head on the toilet seat. The last thing he heard as he slipped into unconsciousness was the unmistakable sound of a snake slithering across the floor accompanied by "Oooooh" from Myrtle and a voice saying "...rip... tear... kill...".

He came round sometime later. "Ooooh, I was hoping you'd bashed your brains out and died." said Myrtle sadly. "I'd have had company then."

Dudley groaned. His head felt like he'd been hit with a brick. "How long was I unconscious for?" he asked.

"About a hour." replied the ghost, "There was a snake. I don't like snakes, I ran to my toilet and shut the door. I heard it go down the U-bend of the one next to the one you're in. It's gone now, into the castle's plumbing." she said.

Dudley looked around at the sinks. They looked normal again. "What happened to the hole?" he asked.

"That closed up again while you were unconscious." said Myrtle. The only evidence of anything having happened in the bathroom was a large puddle on the floor and a bruise on Dudley's temple.

Dudley remembered where he was, and what time it was. "Myrtle, don't tell anyone I was here, will you?" he said, as he headed to the door.

"Only if you promise to visit me again. I do have feelings you know, even if I am dead." she said, starting to wail. Dudley recognised an ultimatum when he heard one, and nodded, just to head off the tears. Then he listened at the door to make sure Filch wasn't about then hot-footed it back towards the common room, hoping not to meet anyone.

On the way back to the common room Dudley rounded a corner and found a puddle of water. In the puddle of water was Mrs. Norris, not moving. Dudley heard footsteps coming and ran to hide back round the corner. He heard Filch shuffling along.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" Filch shrieked. The noise brought for footsteps.

"Argus!" Dudley heard the voice of Dumbledore.

"One of them's murdered my cat!" he screeched.

"Argus!" Dudley heard the voice of Professor McGonagall, "They would never!"

"Oh, I don't know..." Dudley heard Snape. There was a long silence, the sort you might get if a number of people were staring at someone else.

"Anyway." said Dumbledore eventually. Dudley risked a brief peek around the corner. Dumbledore, Filch, McGonagall and Snape were inspecting Mrs. Norris. Dudley ducked back round the corner before he was seen. He was convinced Snape had eyes in the back of his head.

"She's not dead, Argus." Dumbledore said softly.

"Not dead?" choked Filch. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been petrified." said Dumbledore, "But how, I cannot say..."

Dudley turned and crept quietly away taking a different route to Gryffindor. When he was safely back in his dorm, he made sure the other boys were sleeping, then he quietly opened his trunk and took out the diary. He got onto his bed, draw the curtains closed around him and cast a Lumos.

"The chamber has been opened." he wrote.

"By whom? Is there a parselmouth?" wrote back the diary.

"I don't know." lied Dudley. "I went to the girls bathroom and there was a snake."

"She is a beautiful snake." wrote the diary. "The Chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Hier, beware."

Dudley snapped shut the diary, dropped it off the end of his bed into his trunk, kicked it shut, flicked his wand for darkness and huddled under the covers, something he hadn't done since he'd watched a horror movie after he'd gone to bed when he was seven. He fell asleep in a tight ball gripping the covers.

Dudley woke very early next morning, well before dawn. He was suddenly wide awake as the events of last night replayed in his mind. He reached a hand up to his head expecting to find a lump, but it was only a bit sore. What was petrified? Who are the enemies of the Heir? The staff had seemed very rattled when they were talking in hushed tones around Mrs. Norris. Except Snape, but then to hear him, you could never tell. Perhaps he was rattled on the inside.

Good. Dudley thought. He hated the staff here. This wasn't how teachers were supposed to be. Teachers were supposed to like him and not like the freak. It wasn't meant to be like this. But rattled, that was good. He could work with that. He lay in bed scheming for about a quarter of an hour, then he moved with purpose.

He got up, dressed silently, and went to Dean's trunk. He checked that the boy was asleep, opened his trunk and took out an item he knew the boy had bought from the joke shop in Diagon Alley. Dudley then slipped out of the dorm and into the common room. No-one was there. He left through the portrait and went down to the great hall. Still no-one. Excellent. It was a Sunday morning, so the chance of early risers was slim.

He went up to the staff table, walked behind it, took a can of red spray paint from his pocket and wrote on the wall in large letters that could be read by even the blindest person as soon as they entered the hall from the far end. Then he slipped back out of the hall, wiped his fingerprints off the can, just in case (too many crime shows on TV back home), threw it in a bin near the Hufflepuff common room and made his way quietly back to his dorm. He quickly checked in the bathroom that he didn't have a massive bruise on his head, but fortunately although it hurt and it was a bit purple, it was under his hair, so hopefully no-one would notice. He got back into bed and waited for his dorm mates to wake up.

When they got to breakfast the room was buzzing. There was lots of pointing and whispering. Dudley looked to where everyone was pointing. The wall behind the staff table was blank, but the entire faculty was sitting stonily at the head table.

Dudley went to sit at the Gryffindor table with Cormac who was already there.

"What's up?" he asked.

"When the first people got here there was graffiti on the wall behind the staff table." he said, "It said 'The Chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.'"

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" Cormac shrugged.

"No idea, but it's certainly got the staff upset, look."

Dudley looked. They weren't just sitting in silence, more than one of them had tight eyes. "They certainly look bothered." he said, mentally patting himself on the back for a job well done.

"There's also a rumour that Mrs. Norris has been petrified. Filch was seen by someone looking very red-eyed this morning."

"What's petrified?" asked Dudley.

"Turned to stone." came the reply.

"Does it have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets?"

Cormac shrugged, "No idea." he said.

There was a chatter around the Slytherin table when Draco Malfoy arrived. There was the unmistakable scene of someone telling him what had happened, then he said towards Gryffindor,

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, mud-bloods!"

Snape looked over at him, murder in his eyes. Draco ducked behind the nearest person to avoid the wrath of his head of house, but his words had caused more chatter. Mud-bloods! said the chatter.

"What's a mud-blood?" Dudley asked.

"A rude word for a muggle-born wizard. But why muggle-borns should be worried about the Chamber of Secrets more than the rest of us... I don't know." said Cormac.

A fifth year had been listening to them. "I'm going to get a copy of Hogwarts: A History. I bet the answer'll be in there. If there's a chamber in school there'll be record of it in the book." she said.

At the end of breakfast Dumbledore stood up. He didn't need to cough or make any indication that he wanted to speak, silence flowed out from that end of the room until everyone was looking at him waiting for him to speak.

"Students, during the night at least one of you was out after curfew. To dispel the rumours going around, someone petrified Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's cat, and graffiti'd the wall of the great hall. There is nothing more sinister going on here than someone playing a mean, spiteful prank that is in no way funny. The culprit will be found and will explain themselves, of this you can assured. Go about your day, and enjoy the remainder of your weekend." he sat down again and the hall started buzzing again, but everyone began to leave to get on with their day.

* * *

That evening, just before dinner, Ron returned to Hogwarts. He spent some time in his dorm sorting out his things then went down to the great hall. Nearly everyone was seated when he walk through the doors. He stopped at the entrance, and looked over to the Gryffindor table. The twins noticed him and gave him a nod. Hermione and Neville turned round and smiled at him. He gave them a quick tight smile in return.

He looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Harry. Harry was sitting with his back to him. Ron took a deep breath and walked up to Harry.

"Harry." Harry turned and saw his friend, he opened his mouth to greet him, but before he could get a word out Ron spoke.

"I'm sorry. I should have believed you about your cousin. You said he was a horrible person, but I didn't want to believe you. I thought he was helping me and being my friend but he wasn't. I didn't want to believe he'd do something so deliberate as to get you in trouble at Hogsmeade so I just didn't think about it. The twins tried to tell me too, as did Hermione, but I didn't listen. Even Snape told me to get a better friend. Snape!" Ron realised where he was and who was in ear-shot, and went red. Insulting their house of house of a table full of Slytherins wasn't clever. "Sorry." he mumbled to the table in general. He turned back to Harry, "I didn't realise half of what happened until the twins told me this week when they wrote to me. If I'd known I hope I would've realised sooner. But... I don't know." he trailed off. He'd spent some time this week wondering why Harry hadn't told him, and came to the conclusion that it was because Harry didn't think it would have made a difference, that Ron would have sided with Dudley, and in the back of Ron's mind a little voice admitted that that might have been true. It made him want to cringe with embarrassment. He'd been fooled, duped into friendship, bought with cheap support.

"Ron, you're my friend." said Harry quietly. "Dudley has had many years practice at buying friendships. He's been doing it since he was five. He's good at it. You on the other hand, grew up in a house without deception. You're my friend, it's that simple. Nothing will ever change that."

Theo was sitting on one side of Harry, and a Slytherin Ron didn't know on the other. Theo moved up so there was space next to Harry.

"Sit down, I'm sure they won't mind." said Harry, indicating the staff table. Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore were watching them. The boys quickly stopped watching them and started to eat dinner, hoping that if they pretended like nothing out of the ordinary was happening, they'd be allowed to eat together.

* * *

Up at the staff table, Dumbledore was eating dinner, Minerva to his left and Severus to his right. He looked up when he noticed Severus looking down the hall. Ron Weasley had returned to school. He was heading towards the Slytherin table. He watched Ron have a conversation with Harry, and saw Theo move up to let Ron sit down. Dumbledore opened his mouth to make Ron go sit with Gryffindor. The boy had only just returned from suspension, he would be made to follow the rules tightly for a while. But he was stopped by a voice from his left.

"If you say one word I will hide your lemon drops and make sure the house-elves don't provide you with any more." Minerva hadn't even looked at him when she spoke, she just carried on eating her dinner.

He opened his mouth to respond to her when a voice from his right said,

"And when you eventually find some lemon drops, eat them very carefully, you never know what's in them." He looked sharply to his right, but Severus was also calmly continuing eating his dinner as if he hadn't said anything.

Dumbledore pursed his lips, gave them both a look and ate the reminder of his dinner in silence.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Getting Settled

During the next week, Harry took delight in the fact that all of his friends were together again. It made a difference that Ron was with them more than once a week for a hour or so in the library when Dudley had had detention with Snape. They did simple things like eat lunch quickly so they could just hang out together afterwards before afternoon classes. They arranged that in the short break between the morning lessons they'd cross paths on the corridors. They spent an inordinate amount of time in the evenings on the practice quidditch pitch, dark or not. They got good at lighting spells, well Hermione did at least, Harry, Ron, Fred and George were far too busy being silly on their brooms. More than once Neville and Hermione had to look away as one of them did something really reckless.

In Potions, Harry worked with Ron at Neville's request. Theo overheard Neville say this and offered to work with Neville leaving Dudley to partner a poor unfortunate Slytherin. Snape was wonderful, he really excelled himself in his insults to Dudley, and this time, no-one felt it was unwarranted and Ron could enjoy it. Snape getting at others when you were in no danger of him turning on you was a wonderful thing to watch. It seemed everyone knew Dudley had had something to do with Ron cheating and had somehow got away with it. This upset the Gryffindors' sense of fair play, but also the Slytherins' sense of house unity.

The next weekend brought a great deal of upset to Gryffindor though. At Saturday dinner the twins reported that Oliver Wood had come off his broom and badly broken his wrist and dislocated his shoulder. Although wizarding healing techniques meant he wouldn't be sidelined for over six weeks like if he'd been a muggle, he wouldn't be able to play for a good couple of weeks at Madame Pomfrey's insistence. Everyone had seen the very quiet yet highly animated discussion going on at the head table between McGonagall and Pomfrey, which clearly ended in McGonagall losing.

On the Sunday the twins told Harry that Gryffindor would have tryouts for a short term replacement Keeper for the Hufflepuff game. The Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game was usually after Easter, but the Hufflepuff captain had asked that it be brought forward as a number of their players were in the seventh year and after Easter they would have a lot of work to do for their N.E.W.T.s. All the heads of house and the team captains had agreed and so the match was scheduled early. George also said that Ron was going to tryout. Ron often played Keeper when they played at the Burrow and according to George wasn't that bad. He was no Wood, but he was better than many others. Perhaps when he'd had a year or so more practice...

The tryouts would be the weekend after as the game was the early February. Anyone keen from Gryffindor spent the whole of that week on the practice pitch, and so that was where Harry, the twins and Ron were found most of the time when not in class. The twins hit quaffles at Ron, mercilessly at times, until Harry had to point out with a grin Ron was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin.

"Can't be showing favouritism to the family, though, can we?" Fred had quipped, as he hit the quaffle hard enough that Ron had to duck, but they toned it down after that and they had a good rest of the week improving Ron's keeping ability.

A couple of Slytherins made comments within Harry's hearing in the common room about helping the opposition, although they hadn't been too vicious, just pointed. Harry wasn't about to respond. Ron was his friend. He wasn't sure he'd stop even if Marcus threatened to take him off the team if he continued doing it, but Marcus never said a word, so Harry just got on with it.

The day of the Gryffindor tryouts came round and Ron looked rather ill at breakfast. Harry went over to wish him luck, but couldn't go out to support him as only Gryffindor was allowed to go watch, just as only Slytherin could watch their own.

Harry had a couple of impatient hours waiting for the outcome. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ron came into the great hall where harry had waited for him with a grin on his face from ear to ear.

"I did it!" he shouted.

"Yes! I knew you could." said Harry, giving his friend a hug.

"Our little Ronnikins, all grown up enough to play with the big boys." said Fred, wiping an invisible tear from his face. He had to move quickly to avoid Ron slapping him. Harry was so happy for his friend.

"It's only for this one game." said Ron, "I'm nowhere near Oliver's capability, but he said I'd remain a reserve for the rest of the year. He said Slytherin has reserves too. I didn't know that."

"I think that has more to do with Malfoy buying his way onto the team than anything else, but it means Marcus can swap players in and out, so usually the best players are on, but occasionally someone else can have an opportunity to play. At least that's the idea, anyway." Harry said.

"Even though all four of us are on house teams, do you think the staff would mind us practising together still?" said George. "It was kind of different when it seemed like Harry was messing about with Ron and we were just about, but now it might seem, I don't know, anti-house loyalty?"

"I've had a few comments to that effect in the common room last week." said Harry, "But Marcus didn't say anything. I think perhaps I should ask."

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness that permission." said Fred tritely, quoting something his aunt would say, much to the amusement of Ron and George.

"I don't think she's asked for Snape's forgiveness then, has she?" asked Harry pointedly.

"On second thoughts," said Fred quickly, "ask Flint."

Harry thought about how to raise the subject with Marcus for most of that afternoon. He eventually got round to thinking, What if it's more than the four of us? What if Alicia or Katie want to join in? What if Terence or Adrian want to join in too? We wouldn't be giving away team secrets, thought Harry, we've already played each other this year. What if we had a joint practice? That last thought he nearly spoke out loud in his excitement. He ran to Gryffindor common room to find the twins. They came out to see him, and seeing him so agitated had to calm him down.

"But listen, guys, we've already played you, and Hufflepuff have already player Ravenclaw. So what if we had a joint practice with our two teams if we wanted. Hufflepuff could practice with Ravenclaw and Slytherin could practise with Gryffindor. Or people from those teams could, even if the whole team doesn't want to." said Harry, imagining Crabbe or Goyle practising with the Weasleys. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"Just think," said Fred, "A chance to aim a quaffle at Malfoy's monkeys." The three of them thought about that for a couple of moments, with silly grins on their faces.

"Enough!" said George. "You go talk to Flint and I'll go talk to Oliver. Flint, Pucey and Higgs might be up for it on your side, and us and Angelina might want to on our side. It might even be fun."

That evening Harry got up enough courage to go talk to Marcus. He found him thankfully alone in the common room writing an essay.

"Do you have a moment?" asked Harry politely.

"Of course, just give me a moment to finished this sentence." said Flint, indicating the chair next to him. Harry sat down and waited, nearly patiently.

"Fire away." said Marcus putting his quill down.

"It's about quidditch practice." said Harry, nervously. It'd seemed a good idea when talking to the twins, but the prospect had suddenly got a lot scarier. "Um. You know I mess around with the Weasleys."

"Yes, I'm aware." said Marcus neutrally.

"Well, I like doing that, and I don't want to have to stop now that they're all on the Gryffindor team."

"I can understand that." said Marcus, neither allowing or denying.

"Well, I was thinking if other people from our house teams wanted to join us they could." said Harry in a rush. "I mean, we've played Gryffindor already, and we won," he said, compliments never hurt, "So it's not like it's proper joint practices or anything, just a friendly knock around..." Harry tailed off, Marcus was beginning to be able to stare like Snape. It was very off-putting.

"I will speak to our head of house. In the mean time, you may continue playing with the Weasleys. Just don't do anything reckless. Don't think I didn't see you all the other week." he added pointedly. Harry blushed.

"Yes, Captain Flint." Harry said formally, acknowledging the slight reprimand.

In the last week of January Harry had his usual Wednesday meeting with his head of house. At the beginning of the year he'd hated them. Not that Snape had been overbearing or condescending or anything like that, but Harry came out of the meetings feeling inadequate. Snape talked a lot about study plans, study techniques, different ways to learn things, he even talked to Harry about how to hold a quill properly. It had made Harry feel six.

The worst part was that Snape had been right. He'd come to Hogwarts unable to even hold a quill properly, let alone write with one. Snape had described his handwriting as chicken scratch and illegible, and they'd been the nice words. He hadn't said it nastily though, just truthfully. He'd given Harry some exercises to do which although he did in secret (handwriting practice at his age?!) Harry had to admit it had helped. But it also made him feel awkward about Professor McGonagall. All last year he'd been left to study on his own with no help and he'd sort of bumbled along. Snape was more active with his house. He found things out and he fixed them. He didn't give students what they wanted, he gave them what they needed whether they liked it or not.

But the result was that a term later Harry had respect for Snape, and their weekly conversations had grown less awkward when it came to Hogwarts-related things, and every now and then Snape got another snippet of life at Privet Drive. Harry had a feeling Snape wasn't surprised by anything Harry said about so-called home. Snape didn't always say much in response, but Harry knew he'd heard from the nod he got. The nod also conveyed that Snape was grateful that Harry had shared.

This evening was one of those evenings when Harry gave up a snippet of information. They were talking about Harry's latest Potions essay that had been set for homework the week before and Harry had got back today. For the first time since the beginning of the year, Harry had got a Poor in Potions. He hadn't looked forward to this meeting all day. Getting a non-passing grade for his head of house's subject wasn't high up to Harry's to-do list.

"Tell me about your Potions essay, please Harry. Start anywhere. Tell me something."

"I tried, I really did." said Harry, hoping that effort would in some way negate his poor grade.

"I did not accuse you of lack of effort, Harry, I asked you to tell me anything you like about that assignment."

"It was hard."

"Was the required length too much? Was there too much research? Did I give you insufficient time?" asked Snape. He hadn't asked nastily, he'd just given Harry some things to think about. Harry didn't know how to answer. A shrug wasn't going to do. Neither was 'All of them.'

"I don't know. I just didn't know anything."

"The essay was on healing potions or balms. You had to pick one and write about it. You had to write about an injury, identify the means to cure it, how treatment is carried out and then write about a lesser-known or more advanced use. I will admit that the last part of the essay was set to separate the best from the rest as they say, so although you are capable of writing that part well," Harry opened his mouth to argue, "No, do not argue, you are perfectly capable, that part was not a passing criteria of this essay."

"Harry, you wrote about bruise balm. Why? It is a very simple means of healing with very little to write about at your level. That it is such a simple balm should indicate to you that it is not the correct item to choose for this essay. There are plenty of common potions that you could have written a decent length essay about. A Blood-Replenisher Potion for example."

Harry looked at his shoes. He knew Snape wasn't being derogatory, but sometimes the man made him seem so stupid. Harry knew so little about the wizarding world sometimes. He suspected a five year old knew about a Blood-Replenisher Potion, yet Harry had never heard of it. He knew about blood transfusions though, well, as much as any twelve year old did.

"Harry, look at me." Harry looked up. Snape didn't look angry, just disappointed, and that was somehow worse. "Tell me something. Anything."

"I didn't know anything."

"So you said." said Snape gently. "I need more to go on. You need to explain."

Harry took a deep breath, explaining that he didn't know something took effort. He felt like he was being judged.

"I don't know about the wizarding world. When I fell over at Privet Drive there were plasters and antiseptic," so long as I dealt with it myself and didn't tell anyone, Harry mentally added, "No-one had bruise balm. Yet when Dudley threw that iceball at me you reached for the bruise balm without even thinking, and my face was healed straight away." Shame he hadn't left the bruise balm out for Harry to use after he'd got a spanking, thought Harry.

"I didn't even know that the hospital is called St. Mungo's until I heard someone say. I don't know if there's more than one hospital either. Here people floo or apparate, but in the muggle world there are lots of hospitals because ambulances take people there by road, and people live all over the country."

"I know about some injuries and some cures, but they're muggle. If you break a bone they put your limb in a cast. If you've lost a lot of blood you get a transfusion. If you have a nasty cut you get stitches or if it's not so bad you get those odd little butterfly plasters. People can have organs removed, like when you have your appendix out, or organ transplants, but I don't know wizarding things."

"I only know the muggle things because I heard people talking, or the bit we learnt in primary school. A boy in my class broke his arm playing football. He had a cast put on it. Another boy's mum was taken into hospital to have her appendix out. I've been to hospital, to the Accident and Emergency department when..." he stopped, suddenly aware of his tongue running away with him in a bid to defend his essay.

Snape didn't say anything, he just carried on looking at Harry, waiting for Harry to finish the sentence.

"...Dudley trapped my foot in a door. It swelled up and went a funny colour."

"The boy's list of faults certainly does grow longer with each passing day." remarked Snape, making a mental note for future retribution.

"But you see, my essay, I... I just don't know anything." finished Harry lamely.

Snape sat without saying anything for a while, as if studying at his interlaced fingers.

"I see. It might also be the case that some non-muggle students do not know about wizarding treatments too if they've led lucky lives." said Snape eventually. "I will think about this. In the mean time, I would like you to redo your essay. Only two feet, rather than three. Blood-Replenisher Potion. It's composition and use for a variety of injuries. Resubmit your work by the end of classes on Friday."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome, Harry. Now, is there anything else you would like to talk to me about?"

"Um..." said Harry.

"Eloquent as ever." said Snape, without malice. "Let me give you a hint. Quidditch perhaps."

"Has Marcus spoken to you?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Mr. Flint has brought up the topic, yes. Are you sure that inter-house friendly practice is achievable? The emphasis there was on friendly." said Snape.

"It would be for certain people, and not everyone need join in. It's just a bit of a fun. There's so few times that the houses get to interact with each other." defended Harry.

"You mean there are so few times you get to spend time with the Weasleys, Miss. Granger and Mr. Longbottom." countered Snape.

"Well, that's part of it, yes." said Harry honestly. That was his main reason, but that wasn't his only reason. He could see the merits of doing this.

So it seemed did Snape. "I have spoken with Professor McGonagall. She agrees the benefits outweigh the potential problems. Organise it however you will. It's informal. Be inclusive." he said. Harry knew the last sentence was aimed at inviting Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle to participate. He'd invite them, but he didn't think they'd play.

"It goes without saying that if there are any incidents the practices will stop, as will you current practice time with your friends." Harry nodded. "And you will likely find yourself giving me an explanation when I am not in such good humour, if you get my drift." Snape added. Harry swallowed and nodded. He got his drift alright.

Dudley didn't enjoy Hogwarts anymore. He'd quite liked the term before Christmas, admittedly minus a couple of painful run-ins with Dumbledore and Snape, but he'd enjoyed the sense of control he'd had over Weasley, and the sense of frustration this caused Harry. Too many people liked Potter here. Dudley even got the impression that Slytherin didn't dislike his cousin, more they put up with him. He needed to get his edge back.

He thought about his standard tactics of blackmail, threats and outright violence. They usually worked, but that was because his targets in the past had been muggles in a muggle world. Stroking Ron's ego had got him a surprisingly long way, but that path was closed off.

If anyone were to ask him why he felt the need to be better than his cousin, he wouldn't have been able to give an answer. It was just the state of the world. It was a simple fact to him: Harry was Dudley's punch bag. There was nothing more complex than that. The more Harry had friends, the more Dudley needed to take them off him. It was how it had always been.

Now he had one more weapon, and he was beginning to think of it that way - a weapon - he had the person in the diary. His name was Tom Riddle. He had been a student at Hogwarts and he thought the same way Dudley did. Tom was his kind of person.

Dudley got the feeling that he should never tell Tom that he wasn't Ginny. It was only when the diary called him Ginny that a fuzzy feeling that he didn't realise had been building up left him when he was writing in the book. He tried to remember to write like Ginny. He even put little hearts over some of his letter Is like he'd seen some of the girls do.

But he enjoyed plotting with Tom. He knew so much about the place. He'd known about the secret passage to Hogsmeade. He'd also said there was a room on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy that no-one could get into unless you knew how. Dudley kept meaning to investigate that, but hadn't got round to it yet.

Dudley hadn't been able to mention any names, because otherwise Tom would realise he wasn't Ginny, but he'd told Tom that he wanted spite his cousin. Tom had asked what his cousin had done, and Dudley had asked if it mattered.

"Is your cousin a pure-blood?" Tom had then asked, the writing becoming a little spiky.

"No, a half-blood." replied Dudley.

"What else could be expected from a family of blood-traitors?" the diary had sneered. "Perhaps there is hope for you. You do not seem like a typical blood-traitor. The chamber can help you. You said it has been opened. Go there."

"Why do I want to go there?" asked Dudley. He'd opened the chamber out of curiosity and because the diary had told him it would make him powerful. It was insistent that the chamber could help him, but how? A basilisk had come out of the chamber. He'd since looked it up in the library. 'A big snake' didn't do it justice as a description. He wasn't about to go into the chamber without good reason. Curiosity was no enough. But Tom seemed a person he wanted to befriend, even if he did keep trying to persuade him to go to the chamber.

He had useful knowledge. The only problem was, this was new territory for Dudley. Up until now his method of getting information out of someone involved hitting them (or getting someone else to do it for him) until they told him. Negotiation was novel. So Dudley had thought about it for a week before opening the diary again. The diary didn't seem to notice or be bothered by how long it took Dudley to write in it. It just talked to him whenever he wrote.

Dudley's idea involved playing a part he hadn't had experience with until recently - ignorance. He'd spent a lot of time trying to catch up with his peers both educationally and socially within the wizarding world. He often had questions. Ron had answered many of the them, the boy had answered simple questions without malice or disdain. He got the feeling he wouldn't have had the same answers had he questioned Malfoy. Like about pure-bloods, half-bloods and blood traitors. It was terminology he hadn't met before he'd come to Hogwarts, but it was ingrained into the students and he'd learnt. Fast. He wasn't stupid, he knew how to survive amongst his peers without apparent reliance on others.

So they'd talked about one-upmanship, and how to stay on top of the heap. Dudley felt a certain companionship with Tom when he found out Tom could make people do things they didn't want to, and he could speak to snakes. He was sure speaking to snakes wasn't something to admit, seeing as he was pretending to be Ginny, but other things Dudley shared. He wrote about the children in the village and taking their ice-creams by just telling them to hand them over with magic. In return Tom had told him about how he'd used magic when he was younger than Hogwarts age to make children he'd been with do what he wanted too. Tom had shared the sense of power that had made him feel. Dudley couldn't help but agree.

Tom explained that the way to power was to gather supporters who were loyal, the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. Dudley thought back to his gang at his old school and felt kinship with Tom.

Having established a rapport of sorts with Tom, Dudley was loathe to admit to Tom he'd been caught before, but Tom hadn't seemed bothered. It didn't matter if they suspected you, he'd written, you just had to make sure they couldn't prove it was you. And to make sure that there was always at least one person for whom you could do no wrong.

Dudley had liked that. He'd been worried after painting the wall of the great hall. Surely at least Snape would be after his blood, even if he didn't have any proof. But that week Snape seemed much more interested in books. He must have checked everyone's Potions book at least twice. Neville had forgotten his one day and Snape had suggested he'd forgotten it deliberately. He'd given Neville detention. Dudley had been even happier when Harry had tried to defend Neville and got a detention as well.

But apart from that, Dudley had seen no other fallout bar Filch being more on the warpath than usual. A number of students had taken to avoiding the area around his office entirely, even if it meant taking an extra five minutes to get to class.

They'd been talking together for a week on and off, whenever Dudley had some free time, and no-one was about. The diary asked Dudley a seemingly strange question in one of their many conversations in which they'd been talking about Lockhart, as they both agreed that he was a weak-minded idiot who could easily be exploited.

"Are there any roosters at Hogwarts?" Tom had asked.

"What, like chickens?" asked Dudley, ever the suburbanite.

"Roosters specifically."

"Dunno." wrote Dudley.

"Find out. Kill them all."

"But why?"

"KILL THEM ALL." came the response. Dudley felt a strange compulsion to do just that there and then. He'd even stood up, but then the feeling left him. He shut the book and went to get some fresh air. Sometimes, Tom was just mental. A good friend, but mental.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Petrified

Over the next couple of weeks, Harry practised quidditch with a number of Slytherin and Gryffindor players together outside of official practices. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle never came to any. Oliver Wood was allowed on his broom, but not to practice hard. This had made him cranky and he'd only come to one session before Angelina suggested he not turn up again if he was in a mood. It didn't help that she said it in front of Miles, the Slytherin keeper. Oliver went off in a sulk.

The twins made a one or two smart comments at the Slytherins, which earned them some very dirty looks until Harry had quietly taken them to one side and explained that a) Snape would not be pleased with him if this went very wrong and b) if it was the twins' fault Harry would quite happily tell Mrs. Weasley. He knew threatening them with their mum hadn't been nice, but neither was going over Snape's knee.

The next week was quiet if you discounted the amount of celebrating Ron did after Gryffindor beat Hufflepuff. He was, according to the twins, nearly unbearable. Fred even went so far as to say to Harry that he wished he were in Slytherin just to get away from the bragging. Harry saw less of Ron than he used to when he was in Gryffindor so didn't hear about the win quite so much of the time, but Harry also appreciated some of the saves Ron had made. The game had been close. 210 points to 200. The Hufflepuff seeker hadn't been paying attention to the score and caught the snitch before Hufflepuff had scored enough points. Their seeker had caught quite a lot of flak for that, but Harry wondered if she'd caught the snitch before the score ran away from them. The Gryffindor chasers had been scoring left, right and centre, literally, and Ron had done a good job of keeping the quaffle out of his hoops. Ron had deserved to show off a bit.

On Valentine's day Lockhart was vomit inducing as Malfoy nicely put it, he wore lurid pink robes and counted his Valentine's Day cards. It made any sensible person shudder. After they'd quickly eaten dinner that evening, Harry, Fred, George, Adrian and Terence went out to practise a few specific moves. As they crossed the entrance hall, they heard a breathless voice running after them.

"Hi, can I take some pictures of your quidditch practice? It's for my album. I've so few pictures of Slytherin and Gryffindors together. And, I took loads today of Professor Lockhart, he looked so funny in pink, it'd just finish off a roll of film then I can develop them. Please? Please?"

Colin Creevey had caught up with them. He'd tried to take pictures of them every practice. Harry hadn't realised that Colin had spent the year trying to take his picture just so Colin could have a photo of The Boy Who Lived in his album. George had explained it to him last week.

"Just think, you could have had your own personal media circus if you'd been in Gryffindor this year." he said slyly.

The quidditch players had taken to checking for the whereabouts of Colin before announcing out loud where they were going. This time Colin must have seen them leave the great hall and head towards the entrance together. At least he didn't appear to have his camera on him right now.

"Colin, can you not, please?" asked Fred, exasperated. He'd finally got fed up of having to avoid the boy and just wanted him to get lost.

Colin might have got the hint. There were a number of cold stares aimed his way. "Just one? Then I won't bother you again?" he asked, pleading with puppy dog eyes. The group looked at each other. Adrian and Terence shrugged, so Fred saw the chance to put an end to it.

"Just this once and only for five minutes and then I never want to see that camera pointed in any of our directions again, else I'll take the film out and hang you up from the rafters by it."

Colin nodded vigorously, his eyes wide. "I'll just go get my camera."

They were just at the door of the building when Harry heard it, "...soo hungry... for so long..." Harry looked round for the source of the voice, and not finding anyone there looked confused.

"What's up?"asked Adrian, noticing Harry's confusion.

"I thought I heard a voi... never mind," and shrugged it off and went to enjoy his evening.

Colin never appeared. None of them noticed.

* * *

When they got back inside well after dark, all mud-spattered and tired, they realised at once something was wrong. The place was deserted. They went to the great hall as that was the nearest place where they expected to find people. No-one was there.

"What are you all still doing here? You were told to go to your common rooms!" Professor Flitwick appeared behind them.

"Professor, we just came in from the practice pitch." said Terence.

"Ah. Then come this way, all of you." he lead them down to the dungeons and let Harry, Adrian and Terence into their common room. Professor Snape saw them enter and his expression grew stony, fortunately Professor Flitwick stayed long enough to explain.

"Professor, these boys have just come in from the practice quidditch pitch. They did not hear the instruction to return to their dorms. I will escort the Weasleys up to Gryffindor."

Snape's expression reverted to his usual detached demeanor. "Thank you, Filius." and then he beckoned to the three boys, who exchanged confused looks, "Sit, I have yet to address the house." With that, he turned to the room in general and waited for their undivided attention. He didn't have to wait long.

"During dinner there was an incident. A first year Gryffindor was found petrified on the corridor at the bottom of Gryffindor tower." A hushed whispering started up until Snape glared. "For those of you who do not know, Mrs. Norris was petrified just after the holidays. At this time we do not know the details of what happened. If any of you were anywhere near Gryffindor tower during dinner, come to my office when I've finished here. In the meantime, you will remain in here for the evening. If any of you think to disobey you will regret it." he said meaningfully. "Any questions?"

"Sir, who was petrified?" asked a voice from the back of the room.

"I believe his name is Colin Creevey." Harry, Adrian and Terence gasped. Snape turned to their direction and raised an eyebrow. "Something to share, gentlemen?"

"Colin was going to Gryffindor tower to fetch his camera, and then he was coming to the quidditch pitch." said Harry.

"When exactly?" demanded Snape.

"Maybe twenty minutes into dinner. We finished quickly as we wanted to fly. He came out with us and asked if he could have a picture of inter-house quidditch practice. Then he went to get his camera. Sir, did he have his camera when... um... when he was found?"

"Yes, he did. So he was clearly leaving Gryffindor tower. Not that that helps, but it will help when we question the portraits. Hopefully the Fat Lady can be of assistance." with that Snape turned to leave and headed to the door. He turned just as he was exiting and added, "Remember what I said about leaving." he looked directly at Harry when he spoke. Harry felt nervous, how did the man know he wasnted to go up to Gryffindor and exchange news with his friends. He certainly wasn't going to leave the common room now.

Next morning at breakfast, the Gryffindor table was very subdued. Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement and the room fell silent immediately.

"Students, you are aware that Colin Creevey was petrified yesterday evening. The cure for petrification is a Mandrake Restorative Draught. As Professor Sprout has Mandrakes in the greenhouse, when the plants are mature enough a potion can be made. This will restore both Mr. Creevey and Mrs. Norris." he sat down again.

"Well that's very informative," whispered Malfoy sarcastically to the table at large. Harry had to agree with him. They'd been no explanation, no warnings, it wasn't like last year with 'Stay off the third floor corridor unless you want to die a painful death'.

* * *

Dudley had spent a good few weeks spending time talking to Tom. The day before yesterday he'd really enjoyed their conversation. They'd discussed many ways to become a leader recently. Tom had brought it down to the three types of people you'd be leader of, the weak, the ambitious and the thuggish. They had discussed how to lead the weak. They both agreed straight away it was through dominance and a show of power. If you didn't want to directly show force, there was always the opportunity to use the thugs under your leadership to show force at your every whim.

Tom had started simple with ways to show force through magic. Dudley could tell from how Tom wrote that he'd been scathing of Dudley's lack of knowledge, but Dudley had accepted this to gain knowledge. Tom had started by explaining to Dudley simple hexes, he helped Dudley perfect his stinging hex, and quickly moved on to the body-bind curse. Tom had seemed pleased at the speed with which Dudley caught on. Dudley couldn't practise many of these spells on anyone without getting caught, but the ones he could practise like a stinging hex even against an inanimate object, he did.

Dudley realised very early on that hexes were all about meaning it. He often envisioned Potter's face when he fired off a hex. He was eminently pleased with a jelly-legs curse he shot at a first year Hufflepuff on a deserted corridor one evening. It seemed the more he used the hex to channel his anger, the better the hex was.

Tom had more recently upgraded to describing certain curses and their application. Dudley daren't test out Confringo, but Petrificus Totalus was one he'd hoped to try out as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

Yesterday's conversation had been the best though. Tom had told him about the Cruciatus curse. Tom had explained that Ginny, being only a second year she may have difficulty performing the curse.

"You need to mean them, Ginny! You need to really want to cause pain... to enjoy it..." Tom had written.

Dudley smiled to himself. For Potter, he'd mean it.

That morning Dumbledore had announced at breakfast that Creevey had been petrified. The whole school was on edge about it by the time the day had ended. Dumbledore had never said why, or what had happened. The fact that Dudley didn't know either didn't bother him, but he'd use it to his advantage. He knew he could ask Tom about Petrification, he was sure Tom would know, but he didn't. He just didn't care about who got petrified, they weren't important to him.

That evening he remembered what Tom had said to him a couple of weeks ago, to kill the roosters. That would really put people on edge, he thought! Hagrid had roosters. The great idiotic buffoon seemed to have one of every creature he could get his hands on. Comparatively speaking, the roosters were tame, so why want to kill the roosters? He thought about asking Tom, but wondered if Tom would be displeased he hadn't done it when he first asked, so he didn't ask why. But the chaos it would cause... Dudley smiled at just the thought. He would have to think of somewhere public to put the dead roosters, just for effect.

As it was February, it still got dark before curfew, so it was easy for Dudley to slip out under the cover of darkness to head down to Hagrid's cottage. There was a light on in the cottage, but he couldn't hear a noise from inside. He stood still outside and listened for ages wondering where that bloody dog was. Then he heard barking coming from the Forbidden Forest, quite some way away. Excellent, no chance of being disturbed.

Dudley made his way to where the chickens and roosters were kept. He'd looked up rooster in the library that lunchtime. So, big chicken with fancy feathers then. Dudley had grown up in a town. He didn't like the feel of mud under his feet, or the squelchiness of the chicken coop. He saw the roosters amongst the chickens. There were two. He fired a stinging hex at one of them, delighted to be able to practise on a living thing. The bird squawked. He fired a full body bind and it keeled over sideways unable to move.

He pointed his wand at the other bird, concentrated all his focus onto imagining his cousin's face and cast a Crucio. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. Angry at failure he channelled his anger into a Confringo. Suddenly there was only one rooster left in the chicken coop. Damn. He'd wanted to put the carcasses somewhere. One carcass wasn't as good. Oh well, one would have to do. He went up to the bird and fired stinging hexes at its head. They were strong enough that it was dead after just he first one. He didn't want to touch it - he wasn't squeamish, it was just that he wasn't a farm animal kind of person, so he used a levitating charm on the bird to take it into the school. He checked that there was no-one about, then he dumped the dead bird on the head table. Thinking that this didn't have quite the desired effect, he used a Diffindo spell to cut the bird open so that it bled all over the staff table.

He went back to his dorm, pleased with himself. Spreading a bit more panic and unrest was fun.

Next day, everyone talked. Was there a curse at Hogwarts? Who would get petrified next? What had the message behind the staff table been written in? Rooster blood? Would someone meet the same fate as the rooster? Was there any significance to the rooster being placed where the DADA professor usually sat? Did this have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets?

The most any of the students could get out of anyone about the Chamber of Secrets was out of Professor Binns when someone thought to liven up their lesson by asking him. But even that bit of information passed around amongst the students didn't stop anyone whispering about curses, petrification and death.

By the time the end of the week came around the staff looked relieved that there was a quidditch match to create a diversion. The match Slytherin vs Ravenclaw. The general consensus was that Ravenclaw didn't stand a chance. Fred and George had hidden away in the stands to watch their a couple of their practices, especially when they were practicing with Hufflepuff. The twins had incorporated a couple of extra moves into their training with Harry and the other Slytherins after spying of the practice, and Adrian had made sure that Lucian and Peregrine knew about them. He 'accidentally' forgot to tell Malfoy though. This meant that the Slytherin practice on the Thursday before the game was an exercise in showing Malfoy up and as a result Marcus chose Bole and Derrick as beaters for the game. Malfoy's expression was priceless, but no-one felt in the least sorry for him. Although bribery was a perfectly acceptable Slytherin option, it didn't make sense when there were better players.

So the game on Saturday was rather one sided. By the time ten minutes had passed Slytherin was 50 points up and didn't look to be tiring. They ran the Ravenclaw beaters ragged. Surprisingly the game didn't have quite so many of the standard Slytherin features - accidental elbows, the odd grab of an opponent's broom, that sort of thing. When the game was becoming embarrassing to watch at 330 plays 40 is was perhaps fortunate that the snitch was caught by the Ravenclaw seeker. Harry didn't stand a chance of catching it at the time. It was spotted by the audience at the other end of the pitch from where he was and the Ravenclaw seeker was only about 10 metres away from it. It nearly got away from him in his effort to catch it, but Madame Hooch blew her whistle for a Slytherin win 330 against Ravenclaw's 190. But perhaps the most surprising thing about the game was that the twins genuinely applauded the Slytherin chasers and beaters. Training together was one thing, but Harry never thought he'd see the day when Gryffindors clapped for a Slytherin.

* * *

By the time March came round the student body was a lot calmer. Nothing odd had happened to anyone in a couple of weeks. Dumbledore had announced that Colin Creevey and Mrs. Norris had been transferred to St. Mungo's. The Hufflepuff quidditch team had been training too hard after they'd seen what happened to Ravenclaw in their last match and half of them had come down with colds from being out in the rain too often and a couple of them had also injured themselves last session. This meant that the infirmary was getting quite full and no-one had liked sharing the place with a petrified student.

After Potions one morning, everyone was leaving the classroom and had piled into the corridor. There was the usual jostling and shoving, especially when you get Gryffindors and Slytherins in the same confined space. Harry found himself next to his cousin surrounded by his friends when suddenly he heard a voice, " _...kill...time to kill..._ "

Harry swung round to see who'd spoken, as, he noticed, had Dudley.

"Did someone say something?" asked Harry to the people around him in general.

"Didn't hear anything." said Theo.

"Someone said k..." began Dudley, then closed his mouth. Looking at everyone's faces, no-one had heard anything. Harry looked at Dudley. He'd clearly heard what Harry had heard. Was it something really close to them? He looked around nearby, but didn't see anything there. Puzzled, Harry tried to shrug it off as and they went to their next lessons, but he was remembering the other time when they'd been out to practise quidditch and he'd heard the same voice.

Harry was sitting in the great hall that day at lunchtime when everyone's meals were interrupted by Professor Lockhart. He entered the hall at a run and stopped when everyone had seen his entrance. He was nothing if not vain enough to want to look good whatever was happening. It was a shame for him that he sounded so scared when he spoke.

"There's a..." he began, then had to take a breath due to having run all the way here from the dungeons.

"... students..." he continued between gasps, "...petrified..." he managed, "...dungeons..." The staff at the head table rose immediately, all reaching for their wands. Dumbledore told Flitwick and Sprout to remain here and for all students to stay in the hall, and every other member of staff followed the headmaster out of the room heading in the direction of the dungeons.

When the staff got to the dungeons they found a petrified student in the doorway of the Potions classroom and inside were four more.

"They're in my O.W.L. class." said Snape. "They were just cleaning down before coming for lunch. They would have only been here five minutes on their own."

"Why is it so muggy in here?" asked McGonagall.

"I've no idea." said Snape. "It was very hot when I left, they'd needed their cauldrons scalding hot for the potion they were working on."

Dumbledore reached one of the students by the sinks, her cauldron had cracked. He picked up her wand and cast Priori Incantatem. The result was that the student had used the water charm.

"They were cleaning." confirmed Snape. At least one of them cast a water spell onto a cauldron without waiting for it to cool. The whole room will have been filled with water vapour. It'd have been like looking through a ghost in here. But that doesn't help with finding out what happened to them."

"I will contact St. Mungo's," said Dumbledore sadly, "and have them transferred to there. And then decide what to tell the rest of the students." He certainly wasn't going to tell them what he and the other staff suspected though.

Back up in the great hall there was, unsurprisingly, uproar when the headmaster broke the news to the students. You could clearly hear mutters of 'Chamber' and 'Petrified'. When the initial outburst from the students had quieted down, he continued.

"For your own safety, you should not move around the school on your own. I realise that this did not help the students petrified today, but being in a group is better than being completely alone. I am also aware that there are a small number of you who think you can be out of your common rooms after curfew. Believe me when I tell you that you will not like what will happen to you if you are caught. Stay with your friends, stay in your common rooms after curfew, and stay safe." He then dismissed the students to their afternoon lessons.

Over the next week there were an increasing number of owls delivering post in the mornings. Many students had written to their parents to keep them informed of what was going on, and a copy of the Daily Prophet was a valuable commodity. Those that had a subscription were suddenly the most popular students in school. There were a number of articles writing unfavourable things about Dumbledore's ability to lead the school as well as a couple of articles referring to 'last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened.' But details were scarce and seemingly made up and none of the articles agreed with any others. It certainly didn't help with the scaremongering among the students and more than one student had been withdrawn by their parents until the issue had been resolved.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: St. Mungo's

In the middle of March it was announced that there would be a series of trips to take students to visit St. Mungo's hospital. It was emphasised that these trips had nothing to do with the students that were there, but instead they were designed for educational purposes. A number of staff had noticed that there was a lack of knowledge on the part of some students about certain aspects of wizarding life. One of the ways of correcting this would be to show students how certain areas functioned.

Two such areas were healing and law and order. To give students an insight into how these things worked, visits would be arranged to take students to St. Mungo's and the Wizengamot. In future only first years would visit the hospital, but so that all students currently at Hogwarts could have the chance to see how healing happened, this year all year groups would go. Learning how the Wizengamot worked was a complicated process and would only be offered to N.E.W.T.s students.

The visits to the hospital would over two weeks, a different year group on a different day. Students should check the notice board in their common rooms to check the day of their visit.

Harry found out that the second years would visit the hospital on Thursday. Both he and his friends looked forward to the trip. He enjoyed Hogwarts, but the chance to leave for a day and go to somewhere so different would be amazing, especially with it being a totally wizarding place.

"It's only a hospital," said Fred, "I've visited there plenty of times."

"Yes," said Ron, with a grin "and mum said if she had to take either of you again for anything prank related you'd regret it!"

"Thanks for sharing that, little brother." said George. "We could share how you went there with an engorgement charm, if you like."

"No, no," said Ron hurriedly, backing off.

"But it'll be so interesting," said Hermione, "to be able to see what Healers do - I've read about St. Mungo's and Healers in books, but to see it in real life..."

"Are Healers like doctors?" Harry asked.

"Yes and no." said Hermione. "They are the people who cure you, but the injuries and the cures will be completely different. I suspect treatments like operations and stitches would seem stone-age to wizards."

"Are stitches where the patient is literally sewn up?" asked George. "I always thought that must be completely made up."

"Yes," said Hermione, "often with silk thread. Muggles then heal at a natural rate, but the stitches keep everything where it's supposed to be while the flesh heals."

"Eeeww!" said Ron and George.

"That's just sick." added Fred.

* * *

By the time Thursday came round, the second years were all very giddy. The first years had been on Tuesday and rumours about what they'd been shown had been flying round.

Although the usual entrance to the hospital was through the Purge & Dowse department store, it would have taken too long to have all the students in one year group filter through that entrance in a way that wouldn't arouse the suspicion of the muggles on the busy London street. It had been decided that they'd use the floo network. The heads of house's office floos took students to various floos around the hospital and the students arrived in groups of around ten. They then all met up in the foyer where they were welcomed by a Healer in his bright lime-green uniform.

"Good morning, students. It's a pleasure to have you with us today. My name is Healer Smethwyck. Welcome to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. This hospital has been here since the 1600s when it was founded by Healer Mungo Bonham. The hospital is unseen by muggles, they just think that it's a department store under renovation. Usually when you arrive through the dummy in the window you will be brought here, hence the start point for our tour."

"As you can see, it's a busy day here and the reception area is full, so we'll get you moving around the place as soon as we can. Seeing as there's so many of you, you will be split into groups and the groups will all visit a different floor, and then we can escort the groups on to the next floor. Your trip will last the day and there will be an opportunity to visit the shop of the top floor later on if you so wish, as well as have some lunch in the teashop." He nodded at Professor McGonagall who'd come to keep an eye on the students. She quickly split the students into groups, mixing students from the four houses together with each other. A Healer approached each group, and Harry's group was whisked off to the Spell Damage floor.

Harry was fascinated. He was glad he'd been put in a group with Hermione, because as well as the Healer telling them all about how St. Mungo's and wizard healing went, he learnt from Hermione a few things about muggle doctoring too, he'd never known anyone who'd been in hospital for any length of time, and he was never taken to the doctors by his relatives, just A&E that one time.

They'd been put in a group with Dudley, but he ignored them all day and they stayed away from each other, so that worked out fine by Harry. Ron and Neville were in another group, as were Seamus and Dean.

"Can any of you tell me what the emblem of the hospital is?" the Healer asked. Her name was Miriam Strout and they'd started on this floor because it was her specialty. Hermione's hand shot in the air.

" A wand crossed with a bone, Healer." said Hermione confidently.

"Well done!" said the Healer. "And can anyone tell me what you need to get in your studies to become a Healer?" This time Hermione was beaten to the answer by a Ravenclaw.

"You need N.E.W.T.s grade E or above in Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and DADA." came the answer. "My uncle used to be a Healer." he added, as if to provide a source for this obscure bit of knowledge.

"Very good." said the Healer nodding.

The Healer explained about spell damage and the importance of getting your hexes and jinxes correct. The explained that even at the higher end of abilities there were always accidents with spells. They regularly got Aurors in, although usually from being on the receiving end of a curse, rather than their own backfiring on them.

They got to the Janus Thickey ward which Healer Strout explained was for long term residents and was the ward she was head of, a ward for patients who would never fully recover. They weren't allowed in so as to not upset the patients. Many of them were nervous of large numbers of people or strangers.

After that they went down to the bottom floor where they were shown the reception area again and the Welcome Witch who was busy trying to direct someone to the right floor who'd clearly just been blown up by his own cauldron.

"We get that a lot." Strout said, "The problem with magical injuries is that often there's either an explosion or memory loss and people get very confused and disoriented."

After that, they moved onto the first floor for artefact accidents. There was a commotion going on in one of the wards. There was a hysterical woman screaming at a Healer demanding to see her GP.

"What's a GP?" asked Strout, hurrying over to try to calm the situation.

"I've no idea," said the Healer dealing with the woman, "She's a muggle. She was caught in a car accident. A magical, flying car. Someone had stolen it from a wizard's collection of muggle/wizard charmed objects and was flying it around the countryside. It malfunctioned and came down in this lady's garden and she was hit by the magical blast when it crashed. She's badly broken her arm. She's awake because she's too upset for us to get her to drink the sleeping draught we want to give her. But she knows something's not right. I've no idea what a GP is though. Some muggle cure perhaps?"

Hermione had been listening to the Healers' exchange and when Strout came back over to them to tell them to wait outside the ward for five minutes, Hermione said,

"A GP is a muggle doctor, it stands for General Practitioner."

"Do you know about muggle doctors?" asked Strout.

"Not really, but when I was at muggle school my friend fell off her horse and badly broke her arm too. She said that she went to hospital, the doctors x-rayed it, found it was broken and needed to set it using a pin and then she had her arm in a cast for ages - at least ten weeks, but it might have been longer, because it was the summer holidays by then."

"What's a cast? What's a pin?" asked the healer.

"A pin is a piece of metal that is put inside the body to stop bones from moving while they heal, and a cast is a hard casing that does the same thing. You could tell her that you need to x-ray it but in order for the x-ray to be successful you need to put her to sleep and see if that helps her to take the sleeping draught."

The Healer went back to the patient who seemed calmer as soon as the Healer mentioned 'x-ray'. It seemed the woman was expecting a certain process and calmed down knowing that would happen. She took the proffered vial quickly and drank the contents at that point. Strout returned to Hermione.

"Excellent! I keep suggesting we need someone with muggle expertise on the hospital staff, but we so rarely have muggles in here it's not financially viable. I take it you have muggle parents?"

Hermione nodded, pleased she'd got a compliment from the Healer.

"I'll be sure to mention your helpfulness to Professor McGonagall, Miss..."

"Granger." Hermione supplied.

"Come along then everyone, onward and upward!" said the Healer.

They went to the magical creatures floor next to learn about bites, stings and burns. After that was lunch where everyone met up together on the top floor at the hospital tearoom. Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione got a table together. They were swapping fun things they'd learnt with each other when Healer Strout approached their table.

"Hello, Neville. How are you and your grandmother?" she asked.

Neville went bright red and stammered awkwardly, "We...We're OK, H...Healer Strout."

Strout noticed Neville's embarrassment and left them quickly. At the looks from his friends Neville muttered something about a friend of his gran and the conversation went back to things they'd learnt.

In the afternoon Harry's group went on to learn about magical bugs and then potions and plant poisoning.

Potions and poisoning was really interesting. The Healer told them all about how they diagnose and treat poisonings. She explained that it was often difficult to detect poisoning, and even if they knew someone had been poisoned it was even harder to find out what the patient had taken. Sometimes they could put a patient into a deep statis-like sleep while they found out what was wrong and they could find an antidote, but other times they had so little time if a strong general antidote didn't work. In cases like this, a Healer might need some help to quickly find the cause.

"The help that Healers use is this." she said, holding up a vial she'd taken out of a cabinet, "This is Felix Felicis. Can anyone tell me what this is?" This time Harry raised his hand, much to Hermione's surprise.

"It's a luck potion." said Harry, happy that Snape's textbook was proving useful.

"Well done, indeed it is." she replied, "When healers are looking through some of our larger books for the cause or for a cure, if time is pressing, they might take a sip of this. It will help them to 'get lucky' so that they can treat the patient in time as often poisons can act quickly. This is a restricted potion as it's expensive and hard to make. Healers also do not like using it often and they'd rather be reliant on their own knowledge than to blind luck. But sometimes it's necessary. If a person were to drink all of this they'd be lucky for a half day, may be even a whole day as this batch is very potent, but Healers usually only take a sip, enough to cure that patient then it's worn off. Too much luck can be a bad thing. It's been known for wizards or witches to get addicted to it."

She put the vial down on the table next to her and the group continued their tour of that ward.

As they were leaving the ward Harry happened to notice Dudley dawdling. To his horror, he saw Dudley pick up the vial from the table and surreptitiously put it in his pocket, looking round to make sure no-one had seen him. Dudley caught Harry's eye and grinned malevolently. The grin said, "If you tell anyone you saw this, you're dead." Harry opened his mouth to call to the Healer but took a second look at Dudley's face and thought better of it. Dudley hadn't done anything to Harry since before Christmas and Harry was thankful for that. Calling him out on theft in front of the whole group would be like saying to Dudley "I dropped you in it. Come and take revenge whenever you want." So Harry said nothing.

Harry was silent on their way back to school. What was worse? Dudley having luck potion to do with as he pleased, or Dudley taking revenge for Harry dropping him in it? Perhaps Dudley wasn't going to do something to Harry using the potion. I can but hope, thought Harry.

* * *

"I have some Felix Felicis." wrote Dudley in his diary. "I took it from St. Mungo's when we were there today."

"Excellent! Just imagine the things you could do with it." came the response.

"I want to do something my cousin, Dumbledore and Snape but I don't want to get caught." Dudley scribbled.

"Not getting caught requires planning." wrote Tom, "Even with luck potion. How much have you got?"

"About a day's worth."

"Then you've got to make sure that you aren't caught the day after you do anything. You'll not get caught in the act due to the potion, but you need to plan on staying out of trouble. You'll have to practise lying to people."

"I've spent years lying to my parents and to teachers. They haven't a clue." wrote Dudley dismissively.

"And that's why you got caught before. You got cocky and didn't have a well thought out plan. You need to learn how to talk to people. Judge the person you're talking to, then decide on what to say."

"What do you mean? Surely I just say I didn't do it and act innocent?" replied Dudley. "That always works for my parents."

"Oh, no, Ginny. That's too simple. A different person needs a different style. There are three key ways to hide what you've done. First, sentimentality. If the person you're lying to thinks deep down you aren't capable of it, work with that. Appeal to their better nature, show a tear. That's what you do with your parents, but it won't work with everyone. From what you've said, it won't work if Professor Snape suspects you."

"Secondly, humour. You told me about your brothers once before, and how they play pranks and get away with them. They are harmless and do things with a grin, no doubt. It comes across as cheeky, and cheeky is harmless in most people's eyes. This is harder to do depending on what you're lying about, but people are far more ready to believe a smiling person than an angry one."

"Lastly, sometimes the best camouflage is the cold, naked truth, strangely enough, people don't want to believe it even when you say it to their faces, especially if it's something they don't want to hear. You could turn this into a accusation and be affronted or indignant that they would accuse you such a thing. I've found that worked for me well."

Dudley considered Tom's words for a few minutes before writing back. They were certainly food for thought. Up until now he'd always gone with outright denial and innocence. Clearly Tom was in a different league, and Dudley was learning so much.

"So what should I do?"

"You could consider how you want to take the potion. Do you take it all and have one day's luck, or do you use it sparingly for an hour at a time? Do you save some in case you need to take it if you're suspected of doing something? Do you want to do something to all three people together or at separate times?"

"Then, Ginny, you need to decide what you want to do. Is it a physical hurt you want to cause, or an emotional one? Or both? Do you want to do something immediately, or wait a week or so until you've planned everything out to the last detail? Does anyone know you've taken the potion?"

"Yes," Dudley had to admit, "My cousin saw me take it, but he's too scared of me to say anything." he added confidently.

"There you are again, too sure of yourself. You need to hide the potion somewhere seeing as someone knows."

"Alright, where?"

"Do you remember me telling you about the Room of Requirement and how to get into it? Hide it in there, and then we can take our time to plan what you want to do." said Tom.

"I'll have to do it tomorrow evening." wrote Dudley, "It's after curfew now and I'm not going to wander the corridors carrying a luck potion after curfew and I won't get chance during the day tomorrow."

"Then you'd better hope you're not caught in the meantime." said tom.

"No chance!" wrote Dudley, "My cousin's not stupid."

* * *

Harry lay in bad that night tossing and turning for hours. He had no idea which was better, telling, or not telling. He debated telling his friends and getting their input, but wasn't even sure of that. It took him a long time to get to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Dudley's luck runs out

Next day, Harry still wasn't sure what to do. He'd seen Dudley take the Felix Felicis potion from the table that the Healer had returned it to. Dudley knew Harry had seen him. He'd looked him in the eye and smirked. Dudley with luck potion. Harry nearly gibbered at the thought. The amount in the vial would make Dudley lucky for around half a day. What could Dudley do with half a day's luck? It didn't bear thinking about. Harry shuddered.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Ron. "You've sat there since we arrived and you've not said a word." Harry and his friends had gathered in a sunny corner by the greenhouses at lunchtime. They'd grabbed a sandwich from the great hall and taken it with them, so they could eat together. They'd taken to doing this one lunchtime a week. They had got a couple of looks from the head table when they'd done it the first time, and when they had tried to do it the next day McGonagall had shook her head at them. But the next week when they did it they'd just got looked at again. So, once a week was acceptable.

Harry sighed. He should at least tell his friends.

"Yesterday when we were at the hospital I saw something I should tell someone about, but you don't tell on other students." said Harry awkwardly.

"Unless it's your cousin, at which point form an orderly queue behind Ron and yourself." said Fred.

"Oooh, I don't know," said Ron, "I don't think I could bring myself to even drop the lardball in it. There's such a thing as students vs staff, you know."

"Never mind, we'll discuss the ethics of lardboy later." said George, "Harry what's up?"

"Yesterday I saw Dudley take a vial of Felix Felicis and bring it back with him. He's got about half a day's luck here in school."

There was silence for a moment.

"Shit." said Neville quietly. Everyone turned to look at him. No-one had ever heard him swear before, clearly he'd been saving it up for just such an occasion.

"You can say that again." said Ron.

"Does he know you know?" asked Hermione, thinking it through to an unpleasant conclusion.

"Yeah, he knows, he even grinned at me when he was taking it." said Harry.

"So, just to be clear," said Fred, "He's either going to take the potion and do something awful and get away with it, most likely blaming you, or, we drop him in it and he knows it's you and he does something horrible to you. Did I get that close enough?"

"I think that covers it, yes." said George.

"Shit." said Ron.

"Yes, it is." agreed Harry.

"Back to the ethics of lardboy then." said George. "I'd rat him out." Fred nodded in agreement, Neville shook his head.

"You can't just think of what Dudley will do to Harry. The rest of the students will find out that Harry ratted him out to staff, you know how rumour works in here. It's like Ron said, there are unwritten rules."

"Tell Snape." said Hermione. They all turned to look at her aghast.

"If you think I'm going to be anywhere near Snape when he finds out anyone took anything potion-related from St. Mungo's, you've got another thing coming. I'd only consider telling McGonagall. Snape would go mental. Light the blue touch paper and stand well back mental. Shoot the messenger mental. No, no and no." said Harry vehemently.

"Yes, but think about it, Snape might yell a bit, but he won't lay a finger on you. On the other hand, he's very precious of potions and very respectful of the hospital and what it does. He's a potion master for Merlin's sake. He will 'go mental' as you put it, but at McGonagall as Dudley's head of house, or Dumbledore as the headmaster, or Healer Strout for not looking after her potions and lastly, and most importantly, at Dudley for being a sneaking, lying thief."

They digested that reasoning for a while.

"And Dudley getting his own back?" asked Ron.

"The staff will know that anything aimed at Harry, or purporting to have been caused by Harry will most likely have been done by Dudley. They made a big mistake in the first term over that. They won't make it again."

Neville nodded slowly.

"It's your decision." said Ron, "But seeing Dudley in serious trouble would make me happy."

"Okay," said Harry finally. "But if Snape kills me, I blame you, Hermione." He got up and headed back to the great hall.

As it was still lunchtime, some students had eaten and left the great hall and others were just chatting. Snape was missing from the head table. He usually went to his room before afternoon classes to prepare for his next lesson. Harry headed down to the dungeon and knocked on his classroom door.

"Enter."

Harry went inside.

"Harry, to what do I owe your visit?" asked Snape mildly. Harry had trouble getting any words out. Unfortunately his lack of speech made Snape give him his undivided attention. "Harry?" he asked quietly.

"Um. I. Um."

"Words, boy, words." said Snape, slightly irritated. There was only so much time before his next class and he had a number of things to prepare for his N.E.W.T. lesson.

Harry took a deep breath. "Please don't go mental at me."

Snape came closer to Harry. "That I won't promise, but I will hear you out for the next minute without interruption. Talk." Harry opened his mouth but no words came out.

"Fifty seconds."

"Yesterday in the hospital Dudley stole a vial of Felix Felicis and brought it back to Hogwarts with him." said Harry quickly, and then he prudently took a step back from the potions master.

Snape was glad he said he wouldn't interrupt for a minute, it gave him chance to count to ten. Twice.

Harry got a front row seat at seeing Snape when he was livid. His jaw tightened up and a vein on his neck throbbed slightly. And his eyes. His deep black eyes could look right into your soul. Harry took a second step back. Then an forced overly calm, voice spoke.

"Thank you Mr. Potter. You may leave." 'Mr. Potter' thought Harry, he hasn't said that in private for a while. He's going to go spare. Harry thought that while very, very quickly leaving the room.

Angry didn't begin to describe it. Snape was incensed. He wrote a note on a piece of parchment that informed his N.E.W.T. class to get on with some reading from the next chapter and make some notes, then rewrite an essay that had been set at the beginning of the year. Then he marched up to Dumbledore's office. He didn't knock.

"Come in, Severus. I mustn't have heard you knock." said Albus mildly.

"I demand you search a student's possessions." said Snape angrily.

"Demand?" asked Albus coldly, losing the twinkle from this eye.

Snape paused for a couple of moments to regain his composure.

"Headmaster, I request that a student's trunk and other possessions be searched to retrieve an item stolen from St. Mungo's yesterday." Snape managed in a calmer voice, but without losing any of the anger printed on his face.

"Can I make an educated guess as to the student?" Albus asked.

"Most likely. The item in question is a vial of Felix Felicis."

"And you are sure?"

"Sure enough."

Albus nodded. "Then I will inform Minerva. However, if you are wrong, I will remind you there's such a thing as harassment." said Albus, leaving the sentence hanging. Snape just glared at him.

The three members of staff went into the Gryffindor common room and marched straight through to the second year dorm, much to the surprise of the handful of students studying in the common room in their free period. The dorm was empty. They looked around the room.

"That one." said Snape and pointed to the bed with the photograph of the Dursleys on the bedside table. Snape went over to the trunk at the end of the bed and kicked it open.

"Accio Felix Felicis." A vial of liquid flew to his hand from the bottom of the trunk. Snape turned to the other two professors with a very satisfied expression on his face.

"To play devil's advocate, you know he's going to deny putting it there, and unless you dose him with Veritaserum he won't admit it. You caught him out before, but he's learnt since then." said Minerva.

"Interview him." was all Snape said.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later there were four of them in Dumbledore's office. Dudley was standing in front of Dumbledore's desk, McGonagall in one of the chairs to the side and Snape was in the back corner of the room surveying the scene.

"That's not mine! I didn't put it there, why is it always me you accuse of these thing?" said Dudley, in just the right tones of innocence and indignation. He wasn't sure which of Tom's methods of lying he should go for, perhaps the truth. "You think I stole a vial of potion from the hospital? I'd never do that! What do you think I'm going to do with it? Chug the lot and spend the day pranking my cousin? Is that what little you think of me?"

The obnoxious shite is going to get away with it again! thought Snape, incensed. He's trying to guilt trip us because we have no proof. He'd taken a potion from the hospital. A potion made to heal people who couldn't wait. It was so despicable that it made Snape's blood boil. Minerva was right though - getting him to admit anything without dosing him with truth serum was going to be a problem. Snape suddenly had a very interesting thought. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the luck potion. He quietly unstoppered the vial and sniffed its contents. It was a very strong solution. He dipped his little finger in the top of the vial, just so his fingertip was coated in the liquid, then he licked the end of his finger. About five minutes of luck.

He stood up and crossed the room into the line of sight of Dudley. Dudley had geared his brain up to full righteous indignation mode.

"Mr. Dursley, yesterday you ended your trip to St. Mungo's on the Potion and Plant Poisoning floor. The last thing you were shown was how Felix Felicis is used to diagnose a problem. When the Healer wasn't watching, you pocketed the vial. You were seen."

"Only by Harry and he wouldn't say..." Dudley clamped his jaw shut.

I didn't even need a whole five minutes, thought Snape, I must remember to send my compliments to the brewer when I return the vial.

"Lucky for us your mouth ran away with you, isn't it?" said Snape icily.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Professors, thank you for your time, I'm sure your classes will be anxious for your return. I believe it is time for Mr. Dursley and I to have another conversation."

As Snape left the room he glanced back over his shoulder to see Albus reaching into the top drawer of his desk for his ruler.

* * *

Harry had been too busy at lunch from being with his friends and discussing dropping Dudley in it and then talking to Snape to go to the loo. In between the two afternoon lessons he nearly ran to the nearest boys' bathroom. He hoped no-one in his previous class had noticed him jiggling in his seat. He was about to leave the cubicle he was in when he heard someone enter, muttering to themselves.

"Ow! Shit that hurts. Bastard." Harry recognised Dudley's voice and closed his eyes, praying for him to leave without noticing the room had someone else in it. Harry knew exactly where Dudley had just been. Harry stayed completely quiet. He heard the sound of someone undoing their trousers enough to look at their backside and heard Dudley again.

"That's going to smart. Bastard. I'm gonna kill the freak!" Harry heard Dudley run the tap and wash and dry his face. He must have been looking in the mirror at the cubicle doors behind him.

"Is someone in here?!" he demanded. Harry stayed completely still. Shit.

Dudley banged on the door.

"Are you listening to me? Who's there?" Dudley kicked at the door, which gave a bit. "If you're some snotty nosed first year, you'll wish you'd never been born!" yelled Dudley, glad to be able to let off steam at someone or something. He kicked the door. It creaked. One more good kick and it gave way, revealing Harry staring wide-eyed at him.

"Potter!" spat Dudley venomously. They both reached for their wands at the same time and pointed them at each other, neither casting anything.

"You're gonna beg for me to stop!" said Dudley with all the rage and hatred he could muster, not caring about the consequences, "Cruci..."

Harry had considered for weeks whether he ought to try out the hex from Snape's textbook on his cousin, or whether he wanted to test it with the twins first. He just had no idea what it did and didn't fancy trying it out on the twins. So when Dudley cursed him he was shocked at the curse that Dudley had started, and then angry that Dudley was using that curse on him. It took him a split second to move from shocked to angry and he said the only thing that came to mind.

"Sectumsempra!"

Blood spurted from Dudley's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the floor, his wand falling from his limp right hand. Harry plunged toward his cousin, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.

Snape was walking past the boys' bathroom on his way to his last lesson of the day when he heard two curses being cast inside. He ran in, wand in hand, to find Harry standing over his cousin. The boy on the floor looked white as a sheet, his clothes soaked in his own blood. Snape pushed past Harry without even a glance his way. Please don't let the boy be dead, thought Snape. He felt for a pulse, and finding one exhaled the breathe he'd been holding. He pointed his wand at the boy.

"Vulnera Sanentur" he cast, his voice sounding almost song-like. He repeated the incantation twice more. The deep gashes stopped bleeding, started to heal, then fully knit.

The boy still looked very pale. Snape picked the boy up in his arms as if he weighed nothing, turned to Harry and said coldly, "Go to my office. Wait inside." and then he hurried out of the bathroom up to the infirmary.

Poppy stared at him open-mouthed when he arrived in the infirmary.

"Blood-Replenisher Potions, at least two, maybe three and you'll need dittany." said Snape clinically. Madame Pomfrey summoned the potions and hurried over to the bed that Snape had placed Dudley on.

"Is the blood all his?" she asked faintly looking at his clothes. Snape nodded.

"I've closed the wounds, but you'll need to keep an eye on him. I suggest you spell the first Blood-Replenisher directly into his stomach and when he wakes give him at least one more, along with the dittany, as some of his cuts were deep."

"What happened?" Poppy asked, now that she realised it wasn't a life-threatening situation anymore.

"He had a run-in with another student. They thought throwing curses at each was a clever thing to do." said Snape tight-lipped and not wanting to talk. Now that the immediate danger was over he could feel his anger rising enough to make his blood boil. He sent a patronus to Dumbledore informing him of the details of the incident then he went to his office.

* * *

Harry heard the door open and close behind him. Two hands roughly grasped his shoulders and spun him round. He found himself looking into the eyes of a very, very angry potions master.

"What were you thinking?" Snape demanded, his voice dangerously low. "Why that spell?"

"Is Dudley going to be OK?" asked Harry, ignoring Snape's question.

"He will be, with a couple of Blood-Replenisher Potions and some dittany." replied Snape, not displeased that Harry's first thought was for his cousin's welfare, even though he'd failed to answer Snape's own question. "Answer my question."

"I don't know. I didn't know it did that." replied Harry quietly.

"So you used an unknown spell on a fellow student, is that what you're telling me?" Snape asked scathingly.

"I thought it would be like the others." said Harry, his voice beginning to crack. "I thought it'd just be humiliating. I didn't know it would do that."

"Did you miss the clues?" demanded Snape harshly. "Did you not read the note in the margin next to the spell? Did you not think about the words of the spell itself? "

Harry shook his head.

"Perhaps you can demonstrate to me that you've learnt something in the eighteen months you have studied here." said Snape snidely. He was using the tones he spent last year using with the boy. Snape was beyond angry with him.

"Tell me, Potter, Levicorpus - levi would imply what?" Harry was silent.

"Answer me!"

"Levi means to lift."

"And corpus?"

"Body."

"The implication is that the spell will do what exactly?" said Snape, getting into his stride.

"It will lift someone up." said Harry in a small voice.

"And lang?"

"It's like the word language."

"Ah, it appears you do know some things." he sneered. "And lock? Or is that too obvious, even for you? So from the words, this spell will do what?"

"It will stop someone from speaking."

"So tell me, Mr. Potter, what does the word semper mean?"

Happy went silent again.

"If you do not answer me, I will put you over my knee, right now." said Snape irritably.

"It means always." replied Harry, finding his voice.

"And sectum?"

"Something involving cutting." said Harry now looking at his shoes.

Snape took hold of Harry's chin and forced him to look at him.

"So when you put those two words together?"

Harry tried to break away, but Snape held his chin fast. "Answer me, boy!" Snape barked.

"The spell will cut someone so that they always bleeds." said Harry quietly, tears rolling down his face.

"And what is the reverse of this spell?" asked Snape, not satisfied yet.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know."

"It gets even better." said Snape sarcastically, "You cast a spell that would easily kill someone, with no idea how to counter it. Let's now follow this to its conclusion, shall we? Hypothesise what would have happened if I had not walked past the bathroom and heard you cast that spell. Imagine no-one heard you, after all, you weren't in a public place, you were closeted away in a bathroom."

"I..."

"Yes?" said Snape.

"He would have carried on bleeding."

"Until?" demanded Snape, his voice harsh once more.

"Until he'd died." said Harry, his tears flowing freely.

"And then what?" continued Snape, determined to make the boy feel the full ramifications of his actions. "What do you think happens to people who murder their cousin? A slap on the wrist and told not to do it again? Or do you think they get sentenced to Azkaban?"

"Mu..."

"Yes, murder, Mr. Potter. What would you call it if you take someone's life?" asked Snape angrily. "Perhaps I should tell you about the horrors of Azkaban? A fortress on an island in the middle of the North Sea, guarded by dementors who suck the very life and soul out of you. They don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most go mad within weeks. Perhaps ten years in Azkaban would be long enough to allow you to regret your actions. I'm sure you'd only get ten years, you're underage after all."

Snape wasn't done yet though.

"And what of your soul, Mr. Potter? You'd have killed your cousin. You alone would have been responsible for his death. Does that make you feel powerful? To know that you are the cause of your aunt and uncle's misery for the rest of their lives?"

Harry went pale, his stomach clenched and then he turned green. Snape summoned the bin from by his desk in time for Harry to throw up into it. When Harry had finished losing his lunch Snape banished the bin and passed Harry a handkerchief.

"You are only twelve," continued Snape, determined to finish making the boy understand that what he had done should never, ever be repeated. "You would be perhaps twenty two when you came out of Azkaban. With the education of a twelve year old. Do you think Hogwarts would enroll a student who was a convicted murderer? Do you think you would have any prospects left at all? Answer me!"

Harry shook his head.

"Let us return to reality then. Do you think Hogwarts welcomes students who _attempt_ to kill their cousin?"

"I didn't..."

"Think? No, you certainly didn't do that! Didn't mean to? Was that what you were going to say? But you didn't know what you meant to do, did you? You blindly cast a spell at another student with no thought whatsoever. You will be lucky if you are not expelled!" said Snape viciously.

"He was trying to cast a Crucio at me! It's an unforgivable curse." Snape's eyes widened in surprise. He'd heard Dursley cast the curse and wondered where the hell the boy had learnt it from. From the tone he'd cast it in, it might have even worked if he'd been able to finish the cast. But he was surprised Harry knew about it, and not just the name. He'd even known it was an unforgivable.

"And that gives you the right to curse someone back? What about using something less lethal? An Expelliamus perhap. Did that thought cross your mind?" he asked, angry once again at the sheer stupidity and recklessness of the boy.

Harry shook his head.

"From whom did you learn about the Cruciatus curse?" Snape demanded.

"Someone in the common room?" said Harry, half as a question, silently begging he wouldn't have to drop Theo in it. Snape sighed. There were plenty of parents of his snakes that taught their offspring dark magic too young, but that thought was a bit rich coming from him given what he knew by the time he was Harry's age. He let the matter drop.

"You will be lucky not to be expelled before the day is out, Mr. Potter." he said coldly. "Where is the book?" he asked.

"I sent it to Gringott's the day you looked in the twins' dorm. I will have it returned immediately." said Harry, not even trying to pretend he didn't know what Snape was talking about. Where the book was was the least of his worries.

"Then I will add theft onto your list of crimes when I speak to the headmaster." Harry opened his mouth.

"Are you saying that taking my possessions out of my office, rifling through them and sending them to your own vault is not stealing?"

"I always intended on returning it." said Harry meekly.

"Intention! What is that? Actions, Mr. Potter, they speak louder. You will wait here while I speak with Professor Dumbledore. Sit." he said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. With that, he stalked out of his office, still angry.

Harry was left with only the thoughts inside his own head and the mental image of his cousin on the bathroom floor covered in blood.

* * *

Snape sat in the headmaster's office with Dumbledore and the other heads of house. Afternoon classes were just finishing as he made his way up to Albus' office, and Albus had summoned the other heads of house to meet them.

"I don't think you can expel that Boy Who Lived." said Filius quietly. "But if he was anyone else, he'd be packing his trunk right now."

"Of that I am aware." said Dumbledore. "And what of Mr. Dursley? He might have been on the receiving end of a life-threatening curse, but he attempted to cast an unforgivable. If his attempt had succeeded he'd be packing for Azkaban."

"And if Mr. Potter had not been so lucky as to have had Severus overhear his cast, so would he." said Minerva."

"Lucky..." said Snape, under his breath. Perhaps he'd still had some after effects of the Felix Felicis when he passed the boy's bathroom.

"Where did they find out the curses from anyway?" asked Professor Sprout.

"Mr. Dursley, no idea. I haven't had the opportunity to ask yet." said Snape. "Mr. Potter got his from a book."

"A book?" asked Dumbledore. "In school? Did he have access to the restricted section? Although I don't know of a book in our library that contains that curse."

"It was a book in school. But that book is no longer in school and I can assure you that even if that book does return, that curse will no longer be in it."

"Was it a rare volume?" persisted Sprout, curious.

"One of a kind." replied Snape. This really was getting awkward. He didn't want to have to lie, but he would if he had to. He was not about to share that a second year had got hold of a dark curse because he had not only created it, but had left in essentially lying around his office. He might as well just bend over Dumbledore's desk himself and pass him a ruler.

"Enough debate over books." said Dumbledore. "If we cannot expel the one, we cannot in all conscience expel the other. Agreed?" Everyone agreed.

"So what is the next harshest punishment?" asked Filius.

"If they were fifth year or above I'd paddle them. But I'm not about to paddle a second year." said Dumbledore.

"A sharp lesson with a ruler then." said Filius. "They should be expelled by rights. They will not get away with this lightly."

"Any disagreements?" asked Dumbledore. No-one said anything. "Very well. Ten each should suffice. Severus, deal with Mr. Potter. I will deal with Mr. Dursley when he has recovered from his visit to me earlier today and he has been dismissed from the infirmary."

"Headmaster." said Severus assenting.

* * *

Snape returned to his office and closed the door behind him. He went to sit behind his desk. He was marginally calmer than he was earlier. He had been shocked to discover Harry and his cousin in the bathroom surrounded by a pool of blood. He'd been terrified that a curse he'd invented may have killed a student. He'd healed the boy on the floor, praying to anyone that would listen that the boy would make it. And the boy had. And his fear had turned into anger. Most of it aimed at Harry, but no small part aimed at himself. He'd left a book containing a dark curse in plain sight and with unfettered access for any student to find. That level of carelessness was abhorrent to him. His anger had burned brightly and he was glad he hadn't raised a hand to the boy the last time he was in here. He might have caused the boy actual harm.

But his rage was now down to a simmer. Enough to feel fully justified in tanning the boy's hide so he wouldn't sit down comfortably for the rest of today and much of tomorrow. Harry would regret ever stealing his book and using it to cast a potentially deadly curse.

The thought of Harry stealing his things made him angrier again. He'd trusted that boy, and he'd broken that trust. A price would have to be paid.

"Do you deserve to be expelled, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape quietly.

"Probably." said Harry in a dull voice, his heart pounding.

"And if you were not expelled? Is there any other penalty too harsh?"

"No, sir." replied Harry, looking at his shoes again.

"It's your lucky day, Mr. Potter. You will remain a student at Hogwarts." said Snape, putting Harry out of the worst of his abject misery. Snape heard Harry exhale. "Do you deserve mercy, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape sternly.

"Probably not." said Harry resignedly. Since Snape had left the room earlier all he could think about was what would have happened if he'd killed his cousin. He felt awful.

Snape reached into his top drawer and placed a ruler on the desk. "If you were older you'd have got the paddle." said Snape matter-of-factly.

Snape watched Harry carefully. He knew he'd been brutally harsh when he'd spoken to him earlier. He'd been angry, but it hadn't been undeserved. He was going to mete out a punishment the boy wouldn't forget, but he wasn't about to be abusive. Harry sat there, just looking at the ruler. Eventfully the boy stood up.

"Over your desk?" he asked. He looked frightened, who wouldn't be? But Snape didn't want to be so impersonal with the boy, whatever he'd done.

"No, over my knee." Snape was glad when Harry's expression showed relief.

Snape rose and sat in the chair Harry had just vacated.

Harry went pale when he stood up, terrifying himself what was about to happen.

"As strange as this may sound, given what I'm about to do, I don't want to actually harm you. I am aware it will increase the sting. Do you deserve less? For nearly killing your cousin? For theft?" Harry shook his head mutely and Snape waited for Harry comply with his command. He helped Harry over his knee and wrapped his left arm firmly around the boy's waist. He wasn't going to pretend that Harry was going to take this well, it was going to hurt like hell. He raised his arm.

From the very first stripe Harry cried. Snape made sure to place the next one below it, he wasn't about to criss-cross the lines. By the sixth Harry had involuntarily started to kick his feet. Seven and eight landed on Harry's sit spots and in between the cries of pain Snape could hear whimpering and cries of 'I'm sorry'.

Harry wasn't big for his age, and neither was his backside. Snape had spanked the boy hard and he still had two more to go. He knew if he crossed any lines he'd injure the boy. He dropped the ruler and spanked Harry hard twice with his hand. The boy yelped and struggled, his tears flowing freely. That really must have hurt, but he hadn't harmed him.

Snape rubbed circles on Harry's back and leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"You are forgiven, Harry." Harry cried even harder. It took a while for Harry to stop crying. It wasn't the pain in his rear, although Snape knew that hurt like nothing else, but Harry needed to release the pain and anguish of the afternoon. He held him until the tears subsided, then he helped Harry to his feet.

Harry rose wincing as his trousers moved over his bum. God that hurt, he thought. But Snape had called him Harry just then. All through the conversation earlier he'd referred to him as Potter. The coldness had upset Harry, as had the disappointment and cold fury in his head of house's face. Harry knew he deserved every stripe. His backside ached so much, he knew he wouldn't be sitting down to dinner. Snape seemed to know what he was thinking.

"I will have a house-elf bring you dinner in your dorm. Consider yourself grounded there until morning." he said neutrally. "And just in case you were thinking about doing so, if I catch one hint of bruise balm I will repeat your punishment in full." Harry shuddered.

"Yes, Sir." he said.

"Then you are dismissed, Harry." said Snape.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Forgiveness

It had taken Harry a long time to get to sleep the previous night. The night before he'd worried about whether to inform anyone that Dudley had stolen the luck potion, but last night he'd lain awake contemplating what Snape had said about what would happen if Dudley had died. He'd eventually drifted off to sleep exhausted.

He'd woken up this morning well after breakfast had ended, and his first conscious thoughts were of yesterday. He rolled over onto his back and quickly changed his mind, his bum still ached like crazy, he was not planning on sitting down today until at least dinner time.

He vaguely remembered in the not so early hours of last night having an idea about going to the infirmary and apologising to Dudley, although he was sure Dudley wasn't about to accept it. He would try anyway. He got up and dressed and went up to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey saw him enter from the desk in her office. She stood up and moved so she could intervene if anything got out of hand, but not so close that she could hear their conversation.

Dudley was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow reading a quidditch magazine. He saw Harry approach and reached for his wand. Harry stopped and showed him his hands were empty.

"What do you want, Freak?" Dudley spat.

"I wanted to apologise for using that particular hex yesterday. I didn't realise it would do so much damage."

"Go away. I've no interest in your apologies, they're worthless anyway. I presume you were told to do so." Dudley would never have apologised to his cousin if the tables had been reversed, so he presumed the same of Potter.

"No-one made me apologise. I'm here of my own choosing." said Harry quietly, "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, even though we don't like each other."

"Just get out." said Dudley dismissively and pointedly looked back down at his magazine.

Harry turned to leave, and Madame Pomfrey turned to go back to her desk, so she missed the stinging hex Dudley fired at Harry's backside. Harry bit his lip to stop from crying out, but he kept on walking, he felt it was the least he deserved. On top of his still aching bum from yesterday it really made his eyes water. He went back to his dorm and went back to bed, he wasn't even feeling hungry enough to go down for lunch, all he could think about was what would have happened if Dudley had died.

* * *

The evening before, Hermione, Ron, Neville and the twins were concerned about the absence of Harry at dinner. They'd looked for him at the Slytherin table but didn't see him. They were even more concerned when they realised that Dudley was missing from the Gryffindor table too. They all turned to look towards Snape.

"He doesn't look his usual chirpy self," commented Fred. The others turned to look at Fred. "For him, I mean." amended Fred quickly. "He's stabbing his dinner as if it's not quite dead yet."

Sure enough, Snape looked far from happy.

"So, who wants to go find out where he buried Harry? Talk about shooting the messenger." said George acidly.

"I think it's my turn." said Ron. "Should I ask him after dinner?"

"Given his mood, and the fact that we think he shot the last messenger, perhaps leave it until morning if we don't see Harry at breakfast or find him out on the quidditch pitch or in the library." said Hermione.

Next morning neither Dudley nor Harry were at breakfast and by the time they'd checked all the usual places it was mid morning.

"I even bumped into Theo Nott and asked him if he knew where Harry was." said Hermione, "He said he was in the dorm like usual yesterday evening, although he hadn't been in the common room or the last lesson of yesterday afternoon, and he was still in bed when Theo came to breakfast this morning. I'm worried, we need to find out if he's OK. If he really isn't, then he should in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let me in when I went there and didn't say whether he was there or not."

"Snape's office then." said Ron with an air of finality.

"Snape's office." confirmed George. "Good luck."

By the time Ron reached the potion master's office his heart was pounding. He hadn't felt this terrified even when he'd flown out on the quidditch pitch last month in a proper match and that had been nerve-wracking enough. He swallowed and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Ron entered.

Snape looked up from the marking he was doing, "I'm surprised to see you here," said Snape, "I'm sure there are plenty of other places you'd rather be." he said with a sneer.

"It's about Harry. I... We're concerned about him."

"He'll live, I'm sure." said Snape. "Given your intermittent and sporadic concern for him so far this year, I'm curious to know why you're here, or do I presume Miss Granger sent you?" he said in his usual chilly tones. Ron's face flushed crimson. He didn't like being reminded of how badly he'd screwed up with Harry last term.

"We wanted to know that he's OK. We didn't see him yesterday after lunch and we've still not seen him today. We know why he came to see you yesterday lunchtime."

"However, you do not know of the events of yesterday afternoon." replied Snape cryptically, "I will make sure Mr. Potter is in attendance at lunch." and with that he went back to grading papers. Ron had no other choice than to leave.

After Ron had left his office, Snape put down his quill and thought for a few minutes. Then he rose and headed towards the common room. He was about to enter when he remembered that he had an urgent potion simmering that couldn't wait. He'd set an alarm so he could tend to it in time, but that would be in fifteen minutes and he'd be still talking to Harry by then. He wanted uninterrupted time with the boy.

By the time he'd finished with the potion it was the beginning of lunchtime. He went to the great hall to see if Harry had appeared. There was no sign of him, but a particular group of Gryffindors had seen Snape enter. Hermione looked questioningly at him. They still hadn't seen the boy then. He went back down to the Slytherin common room and into the boys dorms. He found Harry on his bed.

"Harry, your absence has been noticed. I'm well aware your backside still smarts, but you are going to go down and eat." he said authoritatively.

Harry was lying face down on his bed, propped up on his elbows. He didn't move or even acknowledge Snape's presence.

"Unless you want my hand to connect sharply with your rear you will at least look at me." growled Snape. Harry turned his head and Snape was concerned to see Harry had been crying. In a much softer voice he continued, "I know your eyes aren't red because your backside's sore, you left my office yesterday in reasonable condition. What's the matter?"

"Wh... What if Dudley had died?" stammered Harry quietly and he turned back away from his head of house and buried his face in his hands.

Damn, thought Snape. He sighed and sat down on the bed next to Harry.

"'What if' isn't something that you should think about for too long, Harry. The world is full of what ifs. I explained yesterday what could have happened, not what did happen. I explained it to you so that you understood that actions have consequences, intentional or otherwise. In this case I wanted you to understand that your actions could have had far reaching consequences. I know from the state you're in right now, that you understand that you should not use spells you do not understand again. But that was all I wanted you to realise."

"But he could have died." said Harry.

"And it is important to remember that he didn't." said Snape.

"Perhaps we should talk about intention." he continued. "Yesterday I told you that actions are stronger than intentions. That is true. But it is not so cut and dry as that. An action can have intentional consequences or unintentional consequences, and it is important to remember that. It will not change the outcome, but it says a lot about the reasons behind the actions. Did you intend on seriously harming you cousin?"

"No!" said Harry quickly, "I just wanted something to happen to him that wasn't nice." he added in a much more embarrassed voice.

"You would agree that 'not nice' could cover everything from a stinging hex through to an unforgivable curse on an absolute scale?"

Harry nodded.

"You wanted him to suffer something perhaps a bit nastier than a stinging hex, and in return he wanted you to suffer the Cruciatus curse. Are those wants equitable, Harry?"

"No, but my curse succeeded. If you'd not been there he'd..." Harry trailed off.

"You would agree that the outcome for your cousin was unintentional? That you did not consciously choose to rip his chest apart?" Harry shuddered at the mental image and shrugged.

"So you are feeling guilty?" Snape asked, "Because he was badly injured?" again Harry nodded. "And what if his curse had been cast successfully? That in exchange for him bleeding and being healed with no scarring might I add, you were writhing around in agony on the bathroom floor suffering the effects of a Cruciatus curse. Would that be equitable?" Harry shrugged, but there was something in his eyes that Snape saw, something that showed that Harry would agree whole-hearted with that statement. The boy certainly wasn't a true Slytherin, he was far too fair-minded.

"Yesterday you were punished. I would say it was a harsh punishment, except that I actually think it was fair and just. I feel that the balance of right and wrong was restored. As a result I forgave you for stealing my book and using it to harm another student."

"Dudley doesn't forgive me." said Harry quietly.

"No, I don't suppose he does." said Snape sadly, "He's not interested in fair or equitable. He would see you crushed under the heel of his shoe if he could." said Snape.

"I asked for his forgiveness and he fired a stinging hex at me. I deserved it." replied Harry.

'Deserved' concerned Snape. The boy was too caught up in making everyone around him happy at the expense of himself. Just look at how he accepted Ron back at the drop of a hat. In Snape's mind, Ron abandoning Harry was something that if he'd been Harry, forgiveness would have taken longer.

Having a fight or a duel was one of the things that happened at Hogwarts with a group of hormonal teenagers, and knowledge of the outcome being a trip to the headmaster or head of house's office prevented it happening too often. The punishments meted out were proportional to the level of violence used. If Harry had defended himself with an Expelliarmus he'd have got no more than a few swats on the backside, if it'd turned into only pushing and shoving they'd have got detentions with Filch, but he hadn't and he'd been punished accordingly. But in the end, all was forgiven. For Harry to think that there was some outstanding debt concerned Snape, so he tried a different tactic.

"Harry, I want you to think of all the times in your life that Dudley has physically or emotionally hurt you. Please bear in mind I know at least a couple from what you've told me. Then, I want you to think of all the times in your life when you've physically or emotionally hurt Dudley."

A few minutes passed by, "Can you even count the number of times Dudley has hurt you?" Harry shook his head. "And the number of times you've hurt him - is it a number that I'd need the fingers on both hands to count?"

Harry shook his head, "But he could have..."

"No, Harry. He didn't. And you didn't mean him to. You need to learn to forgive yourself." Snape heard his own words and felt the hypocrisy in them. Lily. He would never forgive himself for Lily's death. He could atone his whole life and would never forgive himself. But he could usually bury his guilt in a little-accessed corner of his mind that he brought out every now and then. Perhaps if he could save her son in the impending war he would gain a little forgiveness. Perhaps. He shook his head and came back to the present.

"On the great scales of life, you have had far more hurt done to you than you have done. You are not malicious. Your actions either come from self-defence or they are unintentional consequences. You need to accept this."

"You are going to get up. You are going to go eat some lunch. You are going to spend time with your friends." Harry looked like he was about to object.

"Let me be quite clear. If you do not feel you are able to forgive yourself because you do not feel your punishment was sufficient, I can provide you incentive until you do, but you will find that it will not help, it will just mean you don't sit down comfortably for a while. You need to forgive yourself. You deserve to forgive yourself."

"Go, Harry, go eat with your friends, you may sit with them for lunch. They are concerned for you. If nothing else, your presence will confirm that I haven't chopped you up for potions ingredients."

Snape stood up, then he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Harry made it down to the great hall before the end of lunchtime and went over to his friends at the Gryffindor table.

"Harry!" said Ron, "Are you OK? Snape said something happened yesterday afternoon involving you, but he didn't say what."

"Um. Can we go for a walk? I don't fancy being inside for lunch today." replied Harry, trying to work out how much to tell his friends and how to do it not sitting down. He grabbed a sandwich from the table as his friends had finished eating but were there waiting for him.

Harry felt better when they were out in the spring sunshine and they walked in silence down to the lake, Harry eating his lunch as they went. His backside still ached but he'd rather walk than sit down to lunch. As they got near the edge Fred got fed up of waiting.

"What happened? Ron said Snape said 'you'd live' in tones that suggested he wasn't pleased with you. We're all your friends. You can tell us anything."

Harry took a deep breath and started talking.

"So I went to Snape and told him about Dudley and he went ballistic like we thought he would. Not at me!" he said hurriedly, seeing Fred and George jump to the wrong conclusion. "I went to afternoon class. In between the afternoon lessons I went to the bathroom and Dudley came in when I was in one of the cubicles. He clearly gotten on the wrong side of either Dumbledore or Snape. I think he got a ruler applied to his backside."

"I'm not seeing any down sides yet." said Ron happily.

"Dudley realised someone was in there with him and kicked in the door of the toilet I was in." said Harry.

"That's more than a bit of a downside." said Neville. "Please tell me someone came in."

Harry shook his head. How did he tell his friends what curse he'd use? Would they think him a monster? He licked his lips nervously.

Hermione saw Harry's increasing agitation.

"Harry, whatever happened you'd have been defending yourself." she said.

"We pointed our wands at each other and Dudley started to cast a curse. The only thing I could think of was Sectumsempra." His friends looked at each other confused. Clearly none of them recognised the spell. Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in thought.

"Semper means always and sectum means a cutting action. A cutting spell? One that doesn't stop?" asked Hermione, half surprised and half aghast.

Harry looked at his feet. He could feel his face changing colour to deep red, it felt like it could have burnt off in shame. He nodded.

"Merlin!" said Fred as George whistled in astonishment.

"What...What happened then?" asked Ron half afraid to ask.

"Professor Snape came in and healed Dudley, then took him up to the infirmary. He sent me to his office."

"Better that than the headmaster's office." said Ron fervently.

"Not really." said Harry, "Snape came back and chewed me out then suggested I might be expelled before he went to speak to Dumbledore. When he came back he said I wouldn't be expelled but I was lucky not to be getting paddled. I got spanked with a ruler."

"Explains why we're not sitting down for this conversation." said Fred quietly. Harry flushed deeper scarlet. "Sorry," said Fred, "Sometimes I think out loud."

"Harry, you said Dudley threw a curse at you, not a hex or a jinx." said Neville. "What was it?"

"He tried to cast the Cruciatus curse, but he didn't get chance to finish the cast before my curse hit him." replied Harry.

No-one spoke. His friends just stood there with their mouths open. Eventually Ron managed the question most of them were thinking.

"Did he get expelled?"

"No, he was in the infirmary this morning. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets the same punishment as I did though."

"Good!" said Ron vindictively. "Where did you get the curse from though?" Harry briefly met the twins' eyes before looking at his shoes again.

"I stole a potions textbook out of Snape's office ages ago, when Dudley stole mine, remember? Snape let me borrow a second year one, but there was a N.E.W.T.s one that looked like it might help me with Potions, Snape had annotated it. But as well as Potions stuff there were hexes, jinxes and curses in the margins..." he trailed off looking at the twins.

"You mean you could have tried that one out with us?!" demanded George angrily, catching on fast. Harry nodded.

"If you hadn't got a stripy backside right now you'd feel such a stinging hex!" said Fred.

"I'm so sorry." said Harry in a small voice. "If you want to send a stinging hex at me that's fine."

"We'll bear that in mind." said George, with no intention of carry out the threat, mollified by the apology and the offer for them to hex him.

"Do you know what the worst part is?" said Harry, "I feel so guilty about what I did to Dudley. I know we don't like each other," ("Understatement!" coughed Neville), "but I'd never actually hurt him and look what I did to him! I went to the infirmary to apologise, but that was no use. I just feel so horrible."

"He doesn't deserve your apology, moron!" exclaimed Ron, and the twins nodded, "He tried to cast an unforgivable on you. An apology off you is the last thing he deserves, especially after the way he's treated you your whole life." Ron broke off abruptly at the recollection of how he treated Harry last term. Even Snape had been scathing of him for that.

Harry looked embarrassed again. He didn't entirely believe what Ron said, even though it was the same sentiment Snape had voiced less than an hour ago. Hermione noticed his embarrassment, but interpreted it the wrong way.

"Can we agree that Harry did something stupid and paid for it, and Dudley is still the horrible human being we know him to be and move on?" she said.

Everyone nodded, and everything was right between Harry and his friends again.

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed by quietly, Harry occupying his time with his friends. He didn't fancy flying, sitting down to dinner Saturday evening was a chore, and sitting on a broomstick wasn't on his list of things to do.

On Monday afternoon Harry found himself late to class. He'd left his DADA textbook in the great hall at lunchtime and had to run back to get it. The laws of probability conspired against him as he ran into Dudley on a corridor. Harry skidded to a halt and Dudley drew his wand.

"Freak! It's all your fault. You just couldn't let the luck potion go, could you?" he said venomously. "And as for your curse, you pretend you're all innocent little Potter, but you're not the cherub everyone thinks you are. Who'd have thought you knew that curse?"

"I said I was sorry. I am sorry. I didn't know that's what it did." replied Harry, wishing Dudley would believe him.

"Sorry? What's sorry? I spent time in the infirmary. I could have bled to death! What would you know about sorry? And do you know where I was this morning while you were having breakfast? I was having unforgivable curses and their consequences explained to me by Dumbledore. If I'm not sitting comfortably for the rest of the day I don't see why you should!" Dudley spat, pointing his want at Harry.

"If you want to hex me, go ahead, I deserve it." said Harry opening his hands, palms towards Dudley showing he was carrying no wand.

"Totallus Petrificus!" said Dudley, and Harry fell heavily to the floor.

"I think I like you at my feet," Dudley sneered, then he kicked Harry hard in the ribs and went to class, leaving Harry unable to move or call out in the middle of the corridor. Harry lay there unable to move until the end of that lesson when he was discovered by a group of fifth year Hufflepuffs.

"Finite Incantatem!" said one of them, pointing his wand at Harry. Harry got up quickly, dusting off his robes, wincing at his pain in his ribs.

"What happened? Are you OK?" asked one of the group.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." lied Harry.

"You should report this." said the boy in reply. Harry nodded, knowing he had no intention of ever doing so. Harry went to his next class, hoping that he hadn't been missed by Lockhart in DADA and that no-one would mention his absence to Snape.

* * *

After classes that day, they all met in the library after class. Harry sat down holding his front left ribs, an action not unnoticed by his friends.

"What happened?" asked George.

"Nothing." said Harry, knowing his friends wouldn't understand.

"Try again." said Fred.

"I said, it's nothing." repeated Harry, a touch forcefully.

"I tell you what," said Fred, "you tell us what Dudley did to you," and on seeing Harry's expression added, "please don't think we're stupid, and we promise not to pin you down and look at your injury ourselves." Harry didn't say anything.

The twins moved with surprising speed. George pinned Harry's arms behind his back while Fred lifted up his shirt.

"You should've told them," said Ron, not making a move to stop his brothers, "They don't take no for an answer. And that's shiner by the way. That's not hex related is it?"

"No," said Harry, shaking free of the twins who didn't look apologetic in any way, "He kicked me in the ribs."

"I'm surprised he can lift his leg that high." said Fred, then coloured slightly, "Sorry, I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"He cast a body bind then kicked me when I was on the floor if you must know." said Harry.

"Yes we must. And he got you from behind I take it?" asked Fred.

Harry's answer was too slow. It was hard to lie to his friends.

"He was in front of you?!" exclaimed Neville.

"Did you have you eyes shut?" asked Fred with a quick grin.

"No." said Harry, "I deserved it."

"You mean you let him?!" shouted Ron, and quickly was shushed by everyone as Madame Pince looked their way.

"I cast a curse that could have killed him! You didn't see the blood! I deserved it." said Harry heatedly. Then he stood up and left the library and headed back to Slytherin.

"Did someone drop him on his head when he was a baby?" asked George to the rest of the group at large. No-one answered. They were all too busy thinking about Harry.

Hermione hadn't yet said a word the whole conversation.

"Would you all excuse me?" she said in a tight voice and stalked out of the library.

"What's with her?" Ron asked.

"I have no idea, but it's not going to be good." said Fred, as the twins stood up to follow her.

Hermione knew that at this time of the evening Dudley was either in the common room or sitting in the great hall on his own waiting for dinner. She'd often seen him there recently as she'd passed by, writing in a book. He spent a lot of time alone, probably due to the way he'd alienated himself from many of the other Gryffindors, there were only a few like Cormac that had anything to do with him these days.

She went to the great hall. She'd never felt so angry in her entire life. She was so angry she was shaking. Someone had not only attempted to perform an unforgivable curse on Harry, but had made it so he blamed himself for defending himself.

When she marched into the room, there he was, the great fat lump, writing in his book again.

"Dursley!" she screamed. Dudley turned quickly to see a very livid Hermione bearing down on him. He quickly stuffed the book in his pocket and stood up. She could have screamed and yelled at him, but that wasn't what felt right. She didn't say a word. She just slapped him across the face.

Not a girly slap, but one that came from the shoulder and involved her whole arm, the sound of the slap reverberated off the walls of the empty room, and Dudley's head spun sideways. When he turned back to face her, she had no intention of backing down, righteous anger glittered in her eyes. Dudley took a step towards her but was stopped when he found himself bodily thrown backwards by the twins who'd followed Hermione. Ron and Neville arrived and soon four people stood in between Dudley and Hermione.

"What is going on in here?" asked a silky voice quietly from behind them.

"She hit me!" said Dudley holding one hand up to his cheek.

"She?" asked Snape scathingly. "A girl hit you, Mr. Dursley? I'm sure whatever's left of your friends back in the muggle world would love to hear that." Snape turned to Hermione, "Miss. Granger? Did you strike Mr. Dursley?"

Hermione was massaging her palm, it really stung now that her initial anger and adrenalin was wearing off. She nodded.

"Then the rest of you will return to your common room. Miss. Granger, come with me." Snape found the nearest classroom and went inside, closing the door behind them both.

"Explain." said Snape, turning to face her, so they were only a couple of feet apart.

"He put Harry in a body bind and kicked him in the ribs when he was on the floor." said Hermione, knowing the only option was to tell the truth. Harry would hate that she'd told Snape, but she couldn't stand by and let him allow Dudley to use him as a punchbag. She hoped Harry would forgive her.

"Harry's feeling guilty about using the curse he did and he let Dudley do it." she said. Snape's expression grew darker, she could feel his eyes boring into hers, "He just told us. I was angry and knew where Dudley was."

"Did he indeed? It would seem Mr. Potter and I need to have another talk." said Snape icily.

"Moving on to your actions, Miss Granger."

"I'm not sorry." said Hermione quietly.

"No, I don't suppose you are." replied Snape softly. "What do you suppose happens when one student assaults another, Miss. Granger? Should I tell your head of house? Would you like it added to your school record?"

Hermione's expression changed to worry. She had no illusion she was going to end up in detention, probably with Filch, but she'd not realised that it go on her record. She decided it wouldn't have stopped her slapping Dudley though, so she'd just accept it. Snape watched her expression change with her thought process.

"I'd still have done it." said Hermione quietly.

"I know. Turn around, Miss. Granger." Hermione turned to face away from Snape, puzzled for just a moment, before remembering how Snape had punished Harry in the past. A knot appeared in her stomach.

Snape brought his hand down firmly on her behind, enough to make her yelp. "Turn back around." he said neutrally. She turned back, looking warily at the professor.

"I know you are aware of how I keep my Slytherins in line. You are getting off lightly, Miss Granger. Not, I hasten add, because you're a girl, before you get any of that nonsense in your head, but because you are defending your friend in the face of his own idiocy. But I will have you know, Miss Granger, that if you touch even one hair on Mr. Dursley's head again you will go over a desk and I will make sure you understand the error of your ways. Do you understand?" the last sentence was said in his best menacing voice, the one he usually reserved for scaring first years.

Hermione's eyes had gone as wide as saucers, Snape's black eyes staring piercingly into hers. She nodded.

"Yes sir," she whispered breathlessly.

"Then you may return to your common room." said Snape, turning to leave the room.

* * *

"Mr. Potter! My office, now!" said Snape, stalking into the common room and looking over towards Harry's study group. Harry got up and followed his head of house to his office.

After the door was closed behind them Snape summoned a jar of bruise balm from a cabinet on the wall.

"Take off your shirt, Harry." demanded Snape. Harry didn't move. "Either you take off your shirt or I will take it off for you." said Snape.

Harry rolled up his shirt to reveal the bruise on his ribs that was now going a deep shade of blue and purple. With a surprising amount of tenderness given the tone he'd just used Snape dabbed bruise balm onto Harry's ribs.

"Anywhere else?" Snape asked. Harry shook his head. "Should I stripe your backside with a ruler now, or wait until after your explanation?" asked Snape acidly, knowing he wouldn't do anything so harsh, he just wanted to scare Harry into talking.

"I can't stop picturing him on the floor covered in blood." said Harry eventually.

"And that's a reason to let him kick you black and blue? You're lucky he didn't break anything." snapped Snape.

"Who told you?" Harry asked.

"One of your friends. It could have been any of them. They have no wish to see you hurt. I presume you told them what your punishment for casting that curse was?" Harry nodded.

"And they thought this fair?" demanded Snape. Again, Harry nodded.

"Do you see it is only you who thinks you deserve further punishment, Harry?" Harry shrugged.

"Very well," sighed Snape, "We can do this the hard way then. Place your hands on the desk." Harry complied.

"Did Mr. Dursley kicking you in the ribs make you feel less guilty?"

"No, sir."

Snape picked up the ruler from the desk swatted Harry's backside. Hard.

"Tell me, does that pain help you feel any less guilty?" Snape demanded again. Harry shook his head. "A verbal answer!" Snape snapped.

"No, sir."

"Then can we agree that pain in exchange for pain is not the solution to guilt?" Snape demanded. Harry was silent. Snape spun him round to face him. "Answer the question, Harry."

"Yes, sir." said Harry miserably. "But I still feel guilty."

"I know you do, but punishing yourself isn't the answer. One day the guilt will fade, enough that you can forget about it. It will get better, Harry. He is his usual self now that he has been released from the infirmary. That should be punishment enough for anybody."

Snape then did something he very rarely did. He saw the misery in Harry and knew what the boy needed was comfort. He wrapped Harry in a hug.

Harry found himself wrapped in an embrace. He'd been comforted so few times in his life that it felt so special. He felt his eyes fill with tears. He didn't realise when he started to cry. He didn't want the hug to stop. When his tears dried up Snape released him.

"Thank you, sir."

"Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on sometimes." replied Snape. "Go, wash your face Harry, then go have dinner." Harry turned to leave. "Oh, and Harry?" Harry turned back, "If I find you have done anything so stupid as to let Dursley hex you again, and believe me, I will find out, you will be back over my desk before you can blink."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Harry, I'm sorry."

After dinner they'd all gone up to the library and Hermione had sat down next to Harry.

"It's OK, I know you're just looking out for me." said Harry, with a small smile at her.

"Looking out for you?!" exclaimed Ron, "Mate, she slapped Dudley silly." Harry's jaw dropped.

"You did what?" he asked incredulously.

"It was a moment I want to treasure forever." said Fred happily. "I'd like it recorded in a pensieve in slow motion, just so I can always picture the way his head spun so beautifully. It's such a gorgeous hand print on his face too. Although I think McGonagall noticed it at dinner and might fix it." he added.

"Shame, it's like a work of art," added George, "'Right hand, by Hermione Granger, aged 13.'"

"Oh, stop it you three," said Hermione, blushing slightly, "You were all thinking of doing the same thing."

"Yes, but not with so much style and finesse." said George, "And we'd have got murdered by Snape."

"Snape caught you?" said Harry, suddenly worried, knowing Snape's feelings on physical violence.

"It's OK," said Hermione, reassuringly, "He only threatened dire retribution if I did it again."

"Thank Merlin for that!" he said. And that's when he heard it again.

"... _need blood...so hungry_..."

"What was that noise?" asked Harry, turning to find the source of the voice.

"What noise? I didn't hear anything." said Neville.

"That voice, I heard it before, more than once. It's saying things." said Harry.

"Are you sure Dudley didn't kick you in the head?" asked George.

"No, really, I heard someone speaking." insisted Harry.

"What did he or she say?" asked Hermione.

"It sounded like hissing, but there were words in it. It said 'Need blood. So Hungry.'" replied Harry.

"What did it say before?" asked Neville.

"Something about being hungry the first time, and killing the second time." answered Harry, thinking back.

"Was Dudley about? Both those things could come from him!" said Fred, always up for a joke.

"No, the first time was when we went out to play quidditch, the evening Colin was petrified, and the second was in the dungeons corridor. Weird. It was the same day Snape's O.W.L.s students were petrified."

"Well let's hope no-one's petrified this evening then." said Ron as they started to pack up their things to head back to their common rooms before curfew.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: A dish best served cold

Next morning at breakfast something was clearly wrong. The staff were talking in whispered conversation. All except Professor Lockhart, who wasn't there.

"Hopefully he got the sack." said Malfoy snidely. A good number of students nearby nodded or voiced their agreement. The man was a complete moron. How any student taking O.W.L. or N.E.W.T Defence exams hoped to pass was a mystery. Harry had seen upper year groups studying hard from textbooks of students a year older than them. A number of seventh year students had owled home to have their family send them an older sibling's book and they'd been sharing those around the common room too. Harry was surprised there hadn't been complaints written to Dumbledore. Perhaps there had and they'd been unable to find a replacement midway through the year. The students would never know.

Dumbledore stood up and the room grew silent.

"Good morning everyone." said Dumbledore sombrely. "I'm afraid I have more bad news. Last night Professor Lockhart was petrified. He was found in his private quarters this morning by a house-elf. Classes will be cancelled today while we make arrangements for the teaching of his classes."

The hall erupted into whispering and gossip. There was more than one student who looked pleased that Lockhart wouldn't be returning before the end of the year.

"Thank Merlin!" said Theo," I didn't think the idiot would ever be leaving."

"Well you know that position's supposed to be cursed, don't you?" said Malfoy, "No Defence professor has lasted more than a year in ages. At least this one didn't even that that."

Harry was worried. He was thinking about what he'd realised last night about the coincidence between him hearing the voice and someone getting petrified. He looked over to the Gryffindor table and sought out his friends, they were all looking at him. He indicated with his head towards the door, Ron nodded and they all got up to leave together.

"There's no way that's a coincidence." said George, "Twice is a coincidence, but three times?"

"What does the voice sound like, Harry?" asked Hermione, "Male or female?"

"Sort of deeper but not," replied Harry, "But it doesn't sound like a normal voice. It's like a fake voice, the words aren't right. Too many esses."

"Esses?" asked Neville.

"As in the letter S. There are too many. It's almost hissy, like when the radio crackles." Seeing the looks on the Weasleys' and Neville's faces, he turned in appeal to Hermione.

"Never mind. I'm not about to explain radios. Hissy like a cat might hiss?"

"No, more like a snake." said Harry.

"Alright." said Hermione. "So, something petrifies humans and Mrs. Norris. It speaks, but sounds hissy like a snake. It's about during the day and at night. It's not detected in the castle by the wards. No-one's seen anything suspicious. And we think it has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets because of the paint work on the wall of the great hall, but any of those things could be a coincidence."

"What about the roosters?" asked Fred. "Hagrid said his other one was missing too."

"OK, we can keep the roosters in mind too, but again, that might be coincidence. Anything else?"

They looked at each other without saying anything.

"We can research it when we're in the library after classes then, and seeing as we're free for the day we can make a start now." said Hermione. Fred and George groaned, but they all went up to the library with her.

* * *

That evening at dinner Dumbledore announced that he would teach the lower years Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall would teach lower school DADA, Professor Flitwick would teach the sixth year DADA and Professor Snape would teach seventh year DADA. Some classes' time slots would have to be changed to accommodate the new teachers and all students would receive a new timetable that evening so that all students could be prepared for their classes correctly the next day. Not having done homework due to class time changes would not be an acceptable excuse, especially as they'd all had a free day. This caused a flurry of students to rush away to get urgent essays done that they'd been leaving to the last minute.

Next morning at breakfast Fred came over to Harry with a grin on his face.

"Take a look at your cousin." he said. Harry turned to see Dudley looking very displeased with the world, stabbing at his food like it'd offended him.

"What happened to him?"

"Snape. I have no idea of the details. He summoned him out of the common room yesterday evening right after dinner and no-one saw him until after curfew. You know that really scary look Snape wears when you're in real trouble? Dudley came back into the common room as white as a sheet and he went straight up to the dorms."

Harry looked over to the head table and saw Snape watching him and Fred. Harry couldn't make out a single expression on the man's face until Snape glanced over at Dudley and the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

"I don't think we're ever going to find out." said Fred.

"No, but knowing something happened to him is reassuring." replied Harry.

"Oh, Harry, by the way. Underwear. On or off?"

"What?"

"Just pick. On or off."

"I don't understand, what am I picking?"

"That'd spoil the surprise. On or off." Harry looked confused.

"Off." said Theo, picking one just to stop the bizarre conversation.

"On." said Harry. He had a premonition that the twins were up to no good.

"Off/On, it is." said Fred and walked away.

"What was that about?" asked Harry to Theo.

"I've no idea, but knowing those too, I don't think any us want to be around to find out." replied Theo, "Perhaps we all need to watch what we eat for the while. I've heard about their sweets."

* * *

The rest of that week past uneventfully for Harry and his friends. The same couldn't be said for the staff. Four of them were having a very rough week.

"Albus, the man is a self-obsessed moron! Listen to this, 'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?', 'When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?' Albus, this is drivel!" said Minerva, heatedly, slamming a quiz on Dumbledore's desk.

Minerva, Filius and Severus had had enough. By the end of the first day they'd been stunned by the complete lack of knowledge of the students.

"And what about this book list?" said Filius, "'Year with the Yeti' by Gilderoy Lockhart. We are a school Albus, not an advertising agency? Did you know about the list?"

Albus shook his head. "I didn't realise that there were extra books on the book list this year. They weren't there when I checked at the beginning of the summer holidays."

"The self-obsessed idiot must have added them himself." said Snape. "I heard from a few of the students that he'd done a book signing or two during the holidays. He was found petrified in front of a full length gilded stand-up mirror in his quarters. The man was petrified while preening himself. He's currently lying in St. Mungo's with one hand straightening his hair!"

"Albus, the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T students have a problem." said Minerva, steering the conversation back to work. "Some of them have been studying on their own, knowing the exams will not be about this drivel, but many haven't. We'll need to run extra tutorials in the evenings and during the Easter holidays. You're going to have to expect a lot more students than usual to stay for that break. Normally a good number of students, especially the sixth and seventh, do stay, but I suspect a lot more will want to stay to study this year."

"I will let the house elves know." replied Dumbledore.

"Will he be returning next year?" asked Snape pointedly.

"Do any of you have a good word to say for him?" asked Albus.

"My _good_ word is that he's an idiot." said Minerva.

"Unfortunately, there are fewer and fewer candidates for that post. You know the rumours." said Albus.

"Be that as it may," said Filius, "He can't continue."

"Very well." said Albus. "I will terminate his contract at the end of the year. I apologise for your increased workloads. If you want me to take any extra tutorials, I will, and Filius, I could ask Pomona if she could take some of your lower school classes as she's good with Charms if you need the extra time for DADA. Severus, unless you can persuade Poppy to take a first or second year Potions class I think you're a bit stuck for help, sorry."

"Thank you, Albus, I'll see how it goes." said Filius.

"I don't think Poppy would appreciate time with a class of dunderheads, Albus. I'll manage." replied Snape.

* * *

Next week on Monday at breakfast, Theo asked Harry if anything underpants-related had happen. Harry shook his head.

"I have no idea. I gave up asking the twins by Thursday when they said I could find out first hand if I liked, so I'm leaving them to it. For all I know, Fred was asking just to send me a bit nuts for the week thinking about it. Perhaps nothing will come of it."

And perhaps the earth was flat.

Dudley was eating lunch in the great hall, along with the rest of the school. The girl next to him pointed out that the cuff on his right sleeve was frayed and looked like it was missing a bit of the end. He looked at it, found it was tattered at the end and then looked at the other for comparison. It was frayed at the end too. Perhaps it's brushed a Potion on his workbench that morning.

"Oooh!" said the girl and pointed back to his right sleeve. It was now noticeably shorter than it was a couple of seconds ago. Dudley looked at his left sleeve. It was frayed up to the elbow. Dudley could nearly see it getting shorter, stitch by stitch, just vanishing as if it was being eaten away.

He panicked and stood up with a yelp, scrabbling at his robes. However as he'd got up and left his bench, everyone could now see that his trousers had the same problem at the ankles. They were disappearing up his leg. Then his shirt went the same way from the collar and cuffs.

To an onlooker he was hoping up and down in the middle of the room trying to brush off invisible bugs from his clothes, but only succeeded in dusting rags to the floor, which promptly disappeared. Unfortunately, his yelp and hopping antics had drawn the attention of the whole room. By the time he'd realised this he was down to his underwear, which although completely intact at the front, and looked in no way fraying any further, had worn completely away at the back. Dudley went the brightest shade of red and tried to cover his rear while running out of the great hall amidst laughter and wolf-whistles.

"So, on and off then." said Theo. "Nicely done."

* * *

"Genius!" said Neville at the twins when they got to the library after class. Fred and George bowed.

"You couldn't make up your mind, so we went with both." said Fred. "That bit took us a while to figure out, else we'd have been quicker. Remind me to owl mum to send more underwear, would you? We kind of ran out in the testing phase."

"Too much information, thank you." said Hermione, primly, but with a smirk. It really had been funny. Just the memory of a near completely starkers Dudley hopping up and down in the great hall brought a smirk to everyone's face. The whole school had been talking about it all day. A number of students had guessed it was Fred and George and they'd had many hearty congratulations.

"I think we got off lightly with Snape though." said George, "I don't think he's into public humiliation, whoever's the target. He collared us for a chat after Potions this afternoon. He demanded to know how we'd done it, and even took our wands to find out what we'd been casting recently but he couldn't find out anything incriminating."

"Mainly because we set it up days ago." said Fred. "And we made sure we'd done a lot of spells since then, so unless he'd gone back far enough... But he did say that if anything similar ever happened again he would make sure we were caught. I get the feeling he could prove it was us if he really wanted to, but perhaps he's not a fan of lardboy either."

"How did you do it?" asked Hermione, genuinely impressed by the magic.

"We wouldn't want to give our trade secrets away, but we've experimented with an eradication spell, and a disillusionment charm and an invisibility charm. And, here's the clever bit, we made it so that the charm was activated by Dudley drinking strawberry milkshake. That's only served on Mondays at lunch and at dinner, so we could cast the charm on Friday, knowing it would happen today. Clever, yes?"

Hermine nodded, once again thinking that if the twins ever put their pranking ability into something serious they could take over the world.

"Very. Enough congratulations, let's get researching again." she said.

After an hour of research, and another bookshelf fruitlessly searched, they got a breakthrough in the hunt for the source of the voice. Hermione had been hunting through all the books in the library that might contain information about Hogwarts, its history, the forbidden forest (after all, if it was a creature, it might have come from there), creatures that spoke in human voices and any reference to the Chamber of Secrets. She found no more information about Hogwarts or the Chamber than they already knew from Hogwarts: A History ("What do you mean you've still not read it?" asked Hermione) and the Chamber information the students had got from Professor Binns. But there were an awful lot of books about magical creatures. So they'd carried on reading.

"It's a basilisk!" she exclaimed looking up from the book she was reading. "The king of serpents," she quoted from the book, then she read for a minute more and explained the rest. "It speaks Parseltongue, which can only be understood by other snakes and parselmouths, which we know Harry is. Its gaze kills people, although there's an unconfirmed reference in here to someone only being petrified as they'd seen it behind a waterfall."

"I'm sure I'm right. Look," she said pointing to a line in the book, "A rooster's cry will kill it."

"Spiders are afraid of it too. I wonder how it gets around the school unseen though? It's not like it can make itself invisible or anything." she thought out loud. "Has anyone seen a spider recently?" she asked.

"No." said Ron with a shiver.

"We could all keep an eye out for one though." said Fred, surreptiously reaching out behind Ron and tickling the back of his neck lightly, spider-style. Ron screamed and leapt straight up in the air. When he recovered from the shock he picked up a book and made to throw it at Fred.

Madame Pince threw them all out.

* * *

Dudley was seething. He'd spent the day fending off inane comments about his backside. He'd Bat-Bogey hexed a Ravenclaw who'd said no-one wanted to see his pale tushy and it was a good job his underwear hadn't disappeared at the front. That had earned him a detention after class. He'd slipped into the great hall at the very start of dinner, taken a plate of food and gone up to his dorm. He was going to stay there all evening. At least he could talk to Tom. Tom understood. He'd not told Tom he'd tried to Crucio Harry, nor had he said that Harry had used the cutting spell on him. He'd been a bit embarrassed at the failure. But today was different. He'd had enough of the ridicule and the derision.

So now he'd tell Tom the whole truth.

"Hello, Tom. I've something to tell you." wrote Dudley.

"You can tell me anything." said Tom.

"My name isn't Ginny Weasley. I thought this diary was meant for her and that you'd only write back if you thought I was her. I've known for a while that that's not true, and that'd you'd talk to me because you're my friend, but I've had a really bad week or so and I want to talk to you about it honestly."

"Disguise is sometimes necessary." wrote Tom, "Who are you?"

"My name is Dudley Dursley." wrote Dudley.

"What do you want to tell me?" asked Tom.

"I told you the truth about wanting to hurt my cousin, but I've not really told you details about him, else you'd have realised I'm not Ginny. Can I tell you about him, and then you might be able to help me more?"

"Of course, Dudley, tell me everything." wrote Tom. And Dudley felt the urge to tell him everything. It was nice to have a friend he thought.

"My cousin is Harry Potter. He's sort of well known in the wizarding world, but I've grown up with him and they haven't. They call him 'The Boy Who Lived', but I just think he's a freak. He's famous for surviving being murdered when he was a baby, but it's not like he did anything, and now we're both at Hogwarts learning magic and he's suddenly wonderboy. I HATE him." scrawled Dudley, angrily.

"Last week I attempted the Cruciatus curse on him. It would have worked if he'd not fired his curse faster than I did. I ended up in the infirmary for my injuries and then the headmaster's office for using that curse."

"Today was the final straw. He humiliated me in front of the school. I want revenge."

"Your cousin seems lucky, that's all. Who tried to murder him?"

"Lord Voldemort. When he was a baby, Voldemort murdered his parents, but his attempt to murder the freak killed him."

There was no reply from the diary. Dudley waited and waited. Minutes went by.

"Tom? Are you there?" Dudley wrote hurriedly, hoping Tom would still talk to him. He needed a friend.

"Then he will feel pain." wrote Tom. "Lots of pain. Time to get to work, Dudley. Pay attention."

For all the galleons in the world, Dudley couldn't have turned away from the diary. But Dudley didn't want to. He wished he'd confided in Tom fully ages ago. Pain, now that was something Potter deserved.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Dudley makes a move

After being thrown out of the library, Harry and his friends had discussed what to do with the information about the basilisk. The result of their discussion found Harry knocking on Snape's office door next morning before breakfast.

"Harry, what can I do for you?" asked Snape when Harry had entered his office.

"Sir, we were thinking about the people who got petrified..."

"Think about something else. Leave that to the staff, Harry." interrupted Snape.

"But it's important," insisted Harry, refusing to back down, "It's a basilisk."

There was a long silence, accompanied by Snape staring at Harry for an uncomfortably long time.

"We know."

"But why..." started Harry.

"My question is, how do you know?"

Harry looked very uncomfortable. Being a parselmouth was one thing, admitting you heard a basilisk speaking just before it petrified people was another. Harry took a moment to get a grip. Just tell him.

"Um. I heard it. I've been hearing a voice on and off. I thought it was just another student kidding around, but then I realised I'd heard it when Colin and your O.W.L. students were petrified. I thought it was a coincidence until Lockhart was petrified and I heard it again."

"And you've waited a week to mention this? What have you been... oh, never mind... you meet with Miss Granger in the library. I think I can guess exactly what you've been doing this week. Let me guess, the roosters, the parseltongue, the petrification, the lack of spiders?" Harry nodded.

"We weren't in the restricted section or anything." said Harry, slightly defensively. "Erm. Sir, if you know what it is, why is it still here?"

"Honestly? Because we can't find it. No-one's ever seen it, the only evidence are the petrified people, and they can't talk until Professor Sprout has made the Mandrake Restorative Draught, but the mandrakes aren't ready yet. Hogwarts is huge. It could be anywhere, even living in the forest and it just comes into the castle occasionally. Harry, the best thing you can do is to stop worrying about it, leave it to us and make sure you don't travel around school by yourself as the headmaster told you all. Go to breakfast. Enjoy your day."

Snape wasn't about to tell Harry about the headmaster's theory about the basilisk guarding the Chamber of Secrets and that if it was loose around the school, it meant that the Chamber had indeed been opened again.

* * *

Harry did enjoy his day. He was glad that someone else was dealing with the problem. He was glad he could confide in someone who hadn't laughed in his face, someone who'd listened. After telling his friends about meeting Snape, they all felt a bit happier, although nothing could totally satisfy Hermione's curiosity. Harry knew she'd still want to find out where its nest was.

They spent the rest of the day deciding how to celebrate the twins' birthday on Thursday. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had tried to make it a surprise, except that hiding anything from the twins was genuinely impossible, and they found it was much more fun getting their input. At one point Hermione stuck her fingers in her ears so that she'd have plausible deniability over the prank they were planning, but otherwise they all had fun.

This week was the last week before the Easter holidays, but around a third of the school had opted to stay over the break to attend the extra tutorials the staff were putting on for DADA to make up for Lockhart's incompetence. The atmosphere in school varied between stressful, for the students studying for exams, and anticipatory, for the students in lower school looking forward to going home. Very few of the lower school planned on staying, but Neville had got permission to stay from his grandmother, Ron had opted to stay but Ginny and Percy were going home, and Hermione's parents had allowed her to stay with her friends. Harry was thankful Dudley was going to be going home. Two weeks Dudley-free would be very pleasant indeed. Little did Harry know that Dudley had no plans for Harry to enjoy his holidays.

* * *

Dudley spent a lot of time that day thinking about the conversation he'd had with Tom. Tom took revenge to a whole new level.

"What do I do?" Dudley had asked.

"The key is pain. You've so far been too interested in getting him blamed for something. You've relied on other people in your plans. I never got to tell you how you could've used the luck potion. That would have been fun. No matter though, there's plenty of ways left. Do you have access to an owl?"

"I could use a school owl. I did before, before I ever talked to you. I had my parents send me Polyjuice. I thought it would be awkward because they're muggle, but it worked OK, I had to get Lockhart to sign the order, but otherwise it's easy to have anything sent to me. It's not like they check the post."

"You're parents are muggle?" Tom had asked.

"Yes, does that matter?" There was a pause before the Tom had answered.

"Not for this. Does that make your cousin a half-blood?"

"Yes," Dudley had written, "His mother was my mother's sister."

Another pause, and then Tom had then changed the subject back to revenge.

"Poison. You'll need to use a muggle one, as a wizarding one will be detected either by the castle wards or easily detectable by any good Healer, and Hogwarts always tries to appoint the best staff."

"Apart from Lockhart." Dudley had joked.

"There is that."

"When you say muggle poison, do you mean something that'll kill him? You said pain, nothing about killling him." Dudley was intelligent. He wished Harry had never been born. He might even wish Harry dead, but not by his own hand. If nothing else, there was a chance of getting caught, even with Tom helping him. Not that he didn't trust Tom, it was just that he hadn't exactly got away with much since starting at Hogwarts.

"No, muggle poisons won't kill him here. Muggle doctors might not be able to cure them, but doctors have rudimentary skills at best compared with a well-brewed healing potion. The trick is to poison him so he's in pain, after all, poisons are harder to cure and take longer to cure, so he'll be in pain longer than if you just cause him injury."

"Nice." Dudley had written in appreciation. It was the little details that impressed Dudley. Dudley had always been more into physical violence in the past. Tom had opened up a whole new avenue for him.

"Tom, I watched enough television to know about poisons, what with all the crime shows I watched, but where would I get the likes of arsenic or cyanide."

"They are far too obvious." Tom had written dismissively. Dudley had got used to Tom's handwriting over the past months. His hand was usually round and flowing. When he was angry it had more ink spatter, but he also had a style for scathing, Dudley could nearly see the line of the quill tip etched into the line of ink. Dudley was embarrassed whenever Tom was derogatory of something he'd written. He hated not knowing something obvious to a wizard, but Tom, although scathing originally, usually explained in calmer tones.

"You need something muggle and natural that is also a poison. You need to be able to obtain it without question, and have it delivered here without arousing suspicion. Although there are many substances that you could use, rat poison, bleach, that kind of thing, they are only ever going to be seen as poisons. You need something more innocent. Think about it while we talk about how to administer it to him. Does he share your dorm?"

"No, he's in Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor."

"Slytherin?" Tom had asked.

"He was resorted at Snape's request. He was in Gryffindor. Family are often sorted into the same house. I was sorted before he was resorted. I presume that's why I'm in Gryffindor."

"Curious. Poison seems somehow fitting for a Slytherin. Are there any events of any kind happening, something where you could poison just his food?"

"It's the Easter holidays at the end of the week. Today is Monday. I'm returning home for the holidays on Saturday morning."

"You can get to him before then, then you won't be here to be questioned. That will work out well. Have you thought of a poison yet?"

Dudley had had to admit to defeat. He'd hated having to write that he was ignorant of ideas.

"You'll like this one." Tom had written back. "Destroying angels."

"What's that?" Dudley had asked.

"A mushroom. It's not uncommon. It's totally toxic to humans. By the time symptoms show, it's irreversible by muggle doctors. The tiniest amount, even just a couple of bites would kill you. There's an antidote that can be brewed for this kind of poisoning. It's wonderfully painful for the victim. Their kidneys and other internal organs shut down. It's accompanied by nausea and stomach cramps. They're in agony until they slip into a coma and then they die."

"But in this case, there's an antidote, right?" Dudley had checked. Although his moral compass didn't exactly point due North, he still had limitations.

"There is. It can take quite some time to identify the cause of the poisoning as it's muggle and detection spells don't include it, but yes, it's treatable, after a suitable period of pain for the victim."

On finding out that it wasn't fatal, Dudley had been quite happy. The freak in abject agony appealed to him. He'd enjoyed seeing his cousin on the floor when he'd kicked him in the ribs. The thought of him writhing around in a hospital bed spilling his guts up really floated his boat. Then an idea came to hm.

"It's his friends' birthday on Thursday. I heard them talking about it in the common room. They'll be eating something special no doubt."

"You could poison them all if it's easier." Tom had suggested. "Essence of destroying angel in a cake would work."

"I'd rather just get Potter." Dudley had said. For some reason the surgical precision of singling him out made it all the more worthwhile.

"You could spike his drink." Tom had suggested.

"I did that last time, he might spot it." Dudley had replied. He'd felt warm inside when Tom then complimented him on that success.

"Find out what they're going to do then you can work with that. In the meantime, there are a number of muggles who source mushrooms. There's a shop in Oxford that sells all sorts of mushrooms. You'd have to owl a letter to your parents that could then be posted through the muggle mail. If you do it first thing tomorrow, you will have the mushrooms on Wednesday afternoon if you use same day delivery for the muggle post, and because the purchase was muggle, no-one will ever think to check. Wizards are like that. Here's the address."

Dudley had made a note of the address and shop name and quantity. He'd been amazed by the little amount he'd needed to order. First thing Tuesday morning he'd owled his muggle letter (thankfully he'd packed normal paper and a pen in his trunk. His dad wasn't a fan of receiving parchment and quilled letters from him) and he spent the rest of the day finding out what they were all up to on Thursday.

* * *

The only thing that Dudley could find out was that the twins had somehow managed to persuade the elves to make them a birthday cake. How they'd managed to do that was beyond Dudley, seeing as they sneaked into the kitchens on numerous occasions to raid them. The concept that this could get them cake was very confusing. What he didn't realise was that the twins also talked to them while they were there, and to the elves, a wizard caring about them meant more than most things.

Dudley had reported as much to Tom.

"I could teach you a spell that would prevent you from having to get close to him to get it into something he eats or drinks." Tom had replied. "I can show you a spell that will transfer either a solid or a liquid from one place to another. That way you can spell the mushrooms essence directly into something he's eating or drinking. I asked you to order both mushrooms and the essence. Whichever you end up not using you can just banish. I can show you that spell too. That way you won't get caught with an incriminating item. If it's something hot I can show you a heating charm so he won't notice the temperature difference. The mushrooms would be better than the essence though."

It's the details that make Tom a genius, Dudley had thought. The temperature difference wouldn't have occurred to him until it was too late.

Wednesday morning though, Dudley had a breakthrough. Fate handed him a gift. Along with the post delivering his package. His parents had posted his order and returned it without even questioning his story about a competition to find the rarest muggle flora and fauna. Sometimes Dudley thought his parent weren't all that bright. Ron was talking to Hermione over breakfast and Dudley was only a couple of seats away listening for anything useful.

"I'm so looking forward to tomorrow," Ron had said. "The twins are going to surpass themselves. Their prank is genius."

"I told you, I don't want to know." Hermione had replied.

"And as for the food. The twins have arranged for the elves to prepare a full English breakfast for the everyone to celebrate. Just think, fried eggs, crispy bacon, pork sausages, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, hash browns. It's going to be great. I know the food's great here all the time, but wow. And then the cake. The twins described it to me. Triple layered with chocolate frosting. And dinner..."

Dudley had stopped listening. He had everything he needed. He really needed to skip class to practise the translocation spell and warming spell Tom had taught him, but he had Transfiguration first and the chance of Dumbledore not giving him detention for skipping class was zero. He'd skip History of Magic late morning instead. He'd also have all evening to practise.

* * *

Next morning when everyone arrived at the great hall for breakfast, there was a variety of party hats scattered around the tables, including at the head table. Students grew wise quite early on in their Hogwarts career and there was a lot of daring each other to try them out going on, with no-on e wanting to be the first victim of a Weasley prank. No one fancied being first, especially after one of the Gryffindors was heard to mention it was the twins' birthday today.

Harry had already sat at the Slytherin table when the twins entered. Everybody had turned to look at them. George looked a bit crestfallen that no-one had tried on a hat yet.

"Oh, come on, everyone, we're hardly going to get ourselves into trouble on our birthday in such an obvious way. It'll be fun, I promise." he exclaimed sounding disappointed.

"I've heard that before!" called out Lee Jordan.

"Please - it's a nice one. Not everything we do is a full on prank." replied Fred.

Jordan gingerly picked up the hat. He trusted the twins wouldn't ever hurt him, that wasn't the issue, it was more how much of a complete twit he'd look for the remainder of the day that concerned him. He took a deep breath and put the hat on his head. There were gasps from around the room.

"What happened?" asked Lee. He couldn't tell anything was different. He was checking himself all over.

"You're head's disappeared." said Katie Bell. Jordan reached up to his face and touched it. It felt there to him. Everyone else just saw him touch air. He took the hat off and his head reappeared, perfectly normal.

"Oh, that's a great one!" said Angelina, impressed, and put a hat on her head as did a number of other people.

"Mr. Weasley, is that all they do?" asked Professor Flitwick carefully.

"Honest, Professor, yes, that's all they do. They're just fun."

"That's a clever little charm. Well done, boys!" said Flitwick and promptly put a hat on his own head.

The atmosphere in the room became positively party-like as everyone enjoyed breakfast and amused themselves with the hats. Lee started a chorus of Happy Birthday for the twins, who loved being the centre of attention, and everyone enjoyed their special breakfasts including Harry. He spent half his breakfast with Slytherin until Marcus asked him if he wanted to spend time with the twins and he took his plate over to where the twins were sitting.

Everyone was too engrossed in having fun and the hats to notice when Harry's plate had a minor change of content. By the time breakfast was finished everyone, including Harry, had cleared their plates and went to the first lessons of the day feeling buoyed up.

By the time lunchtime came round Harry wondered if he was getting a cold. He didn't feel too good. He was glad that the twins were saving their birthday cake until after dinner that evening. Hopefully he'd feel better by then.

During afternoon lessons he felt really rough and asked to leave Charms. He nearly didn't make it up to the infirmary when his stomach cramped up and he needed to throw up. Madame Pomfrey took one look at him and got him onto one of the beds.

While she went to her office to find a Common Antidote Potion, something that usually cured what every minor ailments students had for an upset stomach, Harry curled up in a ball hoping for the stomach cramps to subside. He was grateful when Madame Pomfrey came hurrying back so quickly with a potion for him to drink. He didn't care how bad it tasted, anything to make the pain go away. He took the potion as directed and waited for the ten minutes Pomfrey had said it would take for it to kick in. Nothing happened. Instead he felt increasinginly nauseous, and had started sweating. The cramps in his stomach got worse. He curled up holding his stomach to ease the cramping just a little and tried not to throw up but to no avail. It worried him that Madame Pomfrey seemed concerned and surprised that the potion hadn't made him even a little bit better.

Poppy ran a full diagnostic charm on him, but apart from listing the symptoms it didn't help her to identify the cause. She gave him a stronger general antidote after Harry had finished throwing up, but it didn't help. She sent a patronus to Severus requesting his assistance after his class had finished. He set his last lesson of the day off on some work they could get on with without his presence and then went up to infirmary. He too grew worried when Poppy explained to him (out of Harry's hearing) what she'd given him and how it wasn't working, especially given the severity of Harry's symptoms.

"Harry, what have you eaten today?" Poppy asked him.

"Just breakfast. I didn't feel quite right at lunchtime, and only ate a couple of bites."

"Did you eat anything else? Something may be the twins offered you?" asked Snape. He knew the twins wouldn't give him anything dangerous deliberately, but he also knew they were into experimenting given half a chance, and although he would have to admit that they had some talent, he wouldn't entirely trust them.

Harry shook his head. "No, we were going to have cake and sweets and things after dinner this evening." Harry's talking had grown laboured, the effort of answering caused more pain. It felt like his insides were on fire, when they we're trying to spasm out of his body.

"Harry, I'd like to give you a sleeping draught, but apart from the fact that I don't think you'll keep it down, it would cause you to sleep when you might need to throw up again, so, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to stay awake." said Snape gently. "We'll work out what's wrong with you, there can't be anything too harmful at Hogwarts, else the castle wards would have detected it. In the meantime, try to relax your muscles. Call us if you need anything, we'll just be in Madame Pomfrey's office."

Snape and Pomfrey went to her office to discuss what could possibly be wrong with the boy.

"Severus, he's had both a mild and a stronger antidote. That should take care of pretty much anything along the lines of food poisoning. He must have eaten or drank something else, or there's something wrong with him. The diagnostic charm gave some very worrying results though. His kidneys and liver are not doing well. If this continues his kidneys will start to shut down. The effects will be reversible when we give him the right antidote, but right now I've no idea what that is."

"Then we give him a bezoar and see if that works. You could spell it directly into his stomach. There's very little that won't cure." replied Snape. "I'd love to know what's wrong with him though. What if we get another student in here in the next couple of hours with the same symptoms? If we do, it'll be the start of an epidemic and we'll run out of bezoars."

Poppy went to get a bezoar and spelled it into Harry. She assured him it would help nearly immediately. Harry felt no better. In fact the cramps got worse. They were now shooting pains in all of his insides. And he was so thirsty, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let him have a drink, as she said that his kidney's weren't working properly and wouldn't be able to process the liquid. After another half hour Poppy ran another diagnostic. Harry had got worse, although not as worse as she thought he would be if the bezoar hadn't worked at all, so perhaps the bezoar was helping, but it wasn't enough.

Throughout that evening, Poppy and Severus searched through every medical textbook they had to hand, including anything relevant they could find in the library. They elicited the help of Madame Pince to bring them those copies as neither of them wanted to leave the patient in case he got worse. For Harry the pain just got worse, he'd never felt so ill in his life.

Madame Pince was searching for books in the library when his friends came in wondering where Harry was. They'd got permission from McGonagall yesterday for Harry to spend the evening with the twins in Gryffindor tower, but they hadn't told him, it would be a nice surprise, but now they came to look for him they couldn't find him.

"I'm surprised to see you here and not trying to batter down the doors of the infirmary." said Madame Pince when she saw them enter.

"I don't understand." said Hermione, looking at the rest of them in confusion.

"Mr. Potter's up there. Madame Pomfrey's having trouble working out what's wrong with him." said Madame Pince, before realising that might not have been the best information to share. She'd got so used to seeing them together and knew how good friends they all were, she just naturally assumed they all knew everything about each other all the time.

"Don't go!" she said. "Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape will not thank you for the interruption."

"Professor Snape?" said Ron, surprised, "How ill is Harry?"

Madame Pince didn't reply. They all left the library very quickly and early ran to the infirmary.

"Out!" said Snape as they opened the door of the infirmary.

"But, professor..." started Hermione.

"I said Out." said Snape, and herded them back out, following them into the corridor outside.

"You two," said Snape, pointing at Fred and George with his hand that just happened to be holding his wand, "Did you give Mr. Potter anything at all today to eat? Or anything in the past that he might just have eaten today? Or slipped anything into his food?"

"No, Professor!" exclaimed Fred, sounding a little affronted at the question. "Harry's not one of our targets."

"Because if you have..." growled Snape.

The twins went from affronted to scared. It wasn't the fact that Snape was standing in their personal space and was still pointing his wand at them, although if they'd thought about it, that should have scared the pants off them, it was the intensity in his tone. What he said didn't come out as a threat either. It came out as a promise of dire retribution. They all realised at the point that something was very wrong with Harry.

"Sir, is Harry going to be alright?" asked Neville. He was that concerned for Harry that it had overridden his usual abject terror of his Potions professor.

"He will be." said Snape automatically. What other answer could be give? And he turned back into the infirmary. He certainly wasn't going to admit to Harry's friends that he was secretly very worried about the boy's health.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Caring

Later that evening after curfew, Dumbledore had come by the infirmary and shooed Harry's friends back to Gryffindor tower, without an admonishment for being out after curfew when they'd explained that they were just concerned, especially when Snape acted the way he did.

Dumbledore suggested to Poppy and Severus that they should contact St. Mungo's, if nothing else then for some Felix Felicis to help diagnose the problem and some bigger medical texts with a more complete list of wizarding ailments.

A Healer came with texts and the luck potion after midnight and stayed with them, so the three of them spent the night dosing up on luck and searching textbooks. Harry had, thankfully for his sanity, but not for his health, slipped into unconsciousness about 2am. By first light, they'd discovered using the luck potion that he'd been poisoned rather than it being an illness, but by what they couldn't determine. They'd run a little-used diagnostic seemingly just on the off-chance because the Healer had read it in one of the texts while dosed up with luck potion. That eliminated many of the textbooks that they were reading, so that they were just reading about poisons, but they clearly weren't able to get lucky enough.

"I don't understand!" said the Healer in exasperation, closing yet another textbook, just as it was getting light outside. "This is every text in St. Mungo's on known poisons. There is surely no poison that you'd come across at Hogwarts that's not going to be in one of these books. Not unless it was muggle."

"Why not muggle?" asked Poppy.

"Wizarding textbooks. Wizarding poisons. There's a range of muggle drugs in here, like foxgloves for digitalis because it's a muggle cure that we sometimes encounter in muggles that we treat for magical accidents, but if it's genuinely just a muggle poison, then it won't be in here."

"Muggle, you say?" said Snape grimly. "Would you excuse me?"

"Severus, no!" said Poppy, realizing exactly where Snape was about to go. "You cannot drag a second year out of bed at six in the morning to accuse him, at wand point, may I add," she said glancing pointedly at his right hand, "of poisoning another."

"You know it fits!" said Severus, pushing past her, heading straight to Gryffindor tower.

Poppy sent an urgent patronus to Albus and Minerva, but she and the Healer stayed to monitor Harry.

* * *

Albus and Minerva caught up with Severus just as he entered the Gryffindor common room. No-one else was in there, 5am was not a time you found Gryffindors up and about on the last day of term.

"Severus!" said Dumbledore, as Snape put his foot on the bottom step leading up to the boys' dorms.

He turned and snarled at the headmaster. "What? I would put money on a muggle poison in Harry's system having only one source. A wizard poison I could accept as anyone, but we'd have found the cure for that already, but a muggle one? After everything else that's happened this year? Come on, Albus, smell the roses!"

"Severus, you cannot just accuse a boy with no evidence!" said Minerva.

"We'd have evidence if you kept a closer eye on your lions!" retorted Snape. Minerva's eyes widened in shock at the direct insult.

"Enough, Severus! When I have everything that I need for the interview arranged, we will talk with Mr. Dursley. In the meantime you will leave here, and preferably have some rest. You may do so either in your quarters or in the infirmary. You will not set foot in Gryffindor tower during that time."

Snape didn't move.

"If you wish me to remove you by force, I will." said Albus, drawing his wand, but not raising it. "But I can guarantee you will not like the experience. And the noise will bring a whole host of witnesses down from those dorms."

Dumbledore and Snape locked gazes.

"I will not tell you twice." said Albus quietly. Snape stalked out angrily and returned to the infirmary. There was no way he could sleep though, he just lay on one of the beds and watched Harry.

* * *

At ten to six Snape went up to Dumbledore's office, at the headmaster's summons. He'd had time to think in the infirmary.

"You'll need veritaserum, Albus." said Snape preparing for an argument. The last time he'd suggested it he'd had a very pointed conversation with the headmaster afterwards. Snape had no compunction about using the potion, especially in a monitored, safe manner. He wasn't about to use it on every student. Who wanted to listen to that much teenage drivel? But he was going to demand its use now. "The boy will just stand there and lie to you otherwise. It would be stupid to assume that the boy will tell the truth. He's cornered, and he will be expelled for this, his only option is to deny everything."

The office also contained Minerva, who was drinking a cup of coffee. She looked tired. It was clear she hadn't slept even before being summoned by Poppy's patronus. Minerva raised an eyebrow at Albus, but didn't say anything. Suggesting Albus was being stupid wasn't the best way to go about things.

"Did it occur to you that I might have already applied to the Ministry for its use today, Severus?" asked Albus. "By the way, the usual method of gaining entrance into this office is to knock."

Severus ignore the comment about knocking. "Given your stance in the past, I wouldn't have thought you would think it appropriate."

"In case you hadn't noticed, if we do not find an antidote quickly, a student will die. I will do anything to prevent that, Severus, as you should know. I applied to the Ministry in the last hour. They have agreed to send some truth serum, so long as a member of the Ministry administers it."

As Albus was saying this his floo sprang to life and Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived with a vial of colourless liquid.

"Good morning, Albus, although I could say it would better in happier circumstances. Minerva, Severus." Kingsley said, nodding at the two professors.

"Good morning, Kingsley. It's good to see you too. How's life in the Auror office? Keeping you busy?"

"It's quite quiet at the moment, but that's a good thing." said Kingsley, "It seems you're having more trouble here than we are. Do students not admit it when they're caught these days?"

"I can't imagine this one would, if he is the guilty party, and I'm afraid we do not have the time to play the long game." answered Dumbledore. He tapped his wand on his desk and a house-elf appeared. Dumbledore asked the elf to send Dudley Dursley to his office. The elf popped away.

Dudley arrived ten minutes later, looking rather disheveled. He'd clearly been woken up and given just enough time to dress before being hurried to Dumbledore's office.

Dudley took in the room, looking at Kingsley in askance.

"This is Mr. Shacklebolt. He works as an Auror at the Ministry." said Dumbledore, answering the unasked question.

"When you've finished with the pleasantries." Snape cut in, clearly itching to find an answer. Albus raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything.

"Mr. Dursley, I will only ask this nicely once. Have you put anything into something Mr. Potter has eaten or drank?" asked Dumbledore, not beating about the bush.

"Sir?" asked Dudley feigning innocence. Snape growled.

"Clearly he's not going to answer, Albus. Get on with it." snapped Snape.

"Mr. Dursley, Mr. Shacklebolt has brought with him veritaserum. Its purpose is to make the speaker speak what they believe to be the truth. It's effects will not last more than around ten minutes for the dose you will be given." Kingsley poured three drops into the cup of water on Dumbledore's desk. "Do you wish to change your answer?"

"I didn't do anything." insisted Dudley.

"As you wish. Drink this." said Dumbledore, holding out the cup to Dudley. Dudley made no attempt to take it.

"Either take it and drink it or you will be forced to drink it." snarled Snape.

"Thank you, Severus. I can interview a student without your input." said Dumbledore pointedly. He stared at Dudley. "But I won't disagree with Professor Snape. One way or another, you will be taking the potion. The other way is we hold open your mouth and force the drops down your throat." said Dumbledore without any bite. Dudley took the cup and drank it with shaking hands. Dumbledore took the cup back from him and set it down on his desk.

"Did you poison Mr. Potter?" asked Dumbledore. Kingsley gasped. He had no idea who the other student involved was.

"Yes." replied Dudley, then gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth.

"What with?" continued Dumbledore.

"Destroying Angel mushrooms." said Dudley, who'd now closed his eyes, unwilling to look the headmaster in the face and wishing his mouth wasn't talking against his will.

Snape left the room to return to the infirmary at a near run.

"Why?" asked Dumbledore.

"Because I wanted to. I hate him." admitted Dudley.

"Where did you get the idea from?" quizzed Dumbledore, curious to know, "That's not exactly a common poison."

"My friend Tom told me about them."

"Who is Tom?"

"Someone I write to." said Dudley. Then he tried to give a statement that wasn't a lie, but implied a lie. "The mushrooms were in a muggle television program that was on a couple of months ago. A murder mystery. The victim died." When his mother had sent them to Dudley, she'd read the label on the package. She'd watched the crime drama in which they featured. She'd said as much to Dudley when she'd owled them to him, warning her Duddikins to be careful when handling them.

The truth serum had allowed him to say it. Would any of them pick up that it was an implication instead of a statement about where he'd got the idea?

The problem with truth serum from the questioner's point of view is that it only won't permit you to tell a lie. You do not have to tell the whole truth though. A lie of omission is not in itself a lie. If the questioner does not ask the right questions, they may not get the whole answer.

"How did you administer the mushrooms?"

"I added them to Harry's breakfast yesterday." answered Dudley, realising that if he was careful he might not have to mention Tom at all. He'd hate to lose his one valuable friend.

"Did you know they would kill him?" asked Kingsley.

"I knew that they wouldn't because there's a cure in the wizarding world, unlike for muggles in the muggle world. There's an antidote." replied Dudley.

"Where did you get them from?" asked Kingsley.

"A muggle shop. I owled and sent for them. I had them sent to my parents. They thought it was for a Herbology project." said Dudley, keen to give enough information so that they might not question everything.

"Where did you learn there's a wizarding cure?"

"In a book. I've read this book in the library." said Dudley. Again, it wasn't a lie. He communicated with Tom by reading what Tom wrote, and the diary was a book of sorts, and he'd done this a couple of times in the library. "It wasn't in the restricted section." said Dudley, as if access to the restricted section was the worst of him problems right now.

"Do you know how painful poisoning is?" asked Minerva.

"Yes." replied Dudley simply, and of his own accord added, "That was the point." Minerva's mouth tightened into a thin line and Kinglsey's face grew very dark.

Dumbledore addressed the other adults in the room. "Is there anything else we want to know? Related to this event? I do not have permission to use veritaserum to find out other past misdeeds, although I confess, in this case I truly want to." The others shook their heads.

"Mr. Durlsey, return to your dorm. You will have communication with nobody. Given our lack of trust in you right now, I will assign a house-elf to watch you so that you do not write to anybody either. You will also not be permitted your wand." He held his hand out and Dudley reluctantly handed over his wand. The elf appeared unsummoned and escorted Dudley back to Gryffindor tower.

* * *

Snape had run back to the infirmary. He knew the antidote for fungus poisoning, and he also knew it would take a certain amount of time to prepare. Time they didn't have. He ran through the doors of the infirmary and called out. Poppy and the Healer came running.

"Do you have a base preparation for fungus poisoning at St. Mungo's?" he asked. "A base after stage one, then I can use it with the other stages, otherwise I'll have to make one from scratch."

"Yes, Master Snape. I can bring it immediately. Do you need anything else?"

"No, I have the other ingredients. Bring it down to my lab. You'll find me preparing stage two ingredients. Time is going to be tight. Don't delay. Poppy, try to get another bezoar into Harry, we need to do everything we can to slow down the poison. I need three hours, and I don't know if he's got it." Snape then turned and ran to his lab, while the Healer flooed to St. Mungo's.

Snape had finished preparing ingredients and was getting on with stage two in a separate cauldron to add later when the Healer returned with t base.

"Put it over there." said Snape, indicating a spare space on the bench. He hadn't stopped stirring. He was counting carefully. "Six counter, ten clock," he muttered under his breath. When he'd got to a stage that didn't require so much of his concentration the Healer asked if he needed any help.

"Only to prepare those roots." said Snape, nodding at the board and silver cutting knife, "It's not exactly a job for your talents, but I could do with an extra pair of hands."

"No need to apologise. I'll do anything that cures the patient." said the Healer and got on with the task.

Two hours later they added the base and stage two to stage three and stirred the correct amount of times.

"Now we have to wait." said Snape. "It's ready when it goes pink and not before. We can't transport it when it's in this stage either. But at least it's stable enough that we can floo with it up to the infirmary when it's done." He went over to the floo and called Madame Pomfrey. "How's Harry?"

"Hanging in there, but please hurry." she said, sounding worried. And so they waited. It was one of the longest hours of Snape's life. It felt like an eternity. There was a muggle phrase, 'A watched kettle never boils'. In this case there was a watched potion that took an eternity to change colour. They'd made it correctly, and they'd hoped that it would change to a vivid pink. The brighter it was, the better the potion.

After fifty five minutes the potion changed colour to a nearly luminescent pink. Snape quickly ladled a couple of doses into a cup, never mind the time to vial and stopper and raced for the floo.

When he got to the infirmary and looked at Harry he thought for a second he was too late until he saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was so pale.

"You're going to have to spell it inside him," said the Healer who'd followed through the floo. He's never going to swallow himself. Snape spelled a dose into Harry and they all sat round the bed and watched. After two minutes Harry's breathing sounded just a touch less laboured and he looked just a little less white. Snape hadn't held so much hope in his heart in a very long time. After ten minutes, Harry's breathing was definitely sounding more normal, and his cheeks were beginning to have a little pink in them.

Poppy ran a diagnostic spell and confirmed that there was less damage to his internal organs than there had been an hour ago.

"Will he need a second dose?" she asked.

"It would be better if he didn't." said the Healer. "It's a strong antidote. The side effects include vomiting and fever. He's had enough of that already. But if it's necessary we could give him another quarter dose mid afternoon. I wouldn't want to do it any earlier."

Snape stayed by Harry's bed until midday, an hour after administering the antidote. Harry looked to be sleeping comfortably, rather than being unconscious. Poppy's latest diagnostic had confirmed that his kidneys' were up to 80% functionality.

Snape got up from his chair and thanked the healer. An hour had given him enough time to get plenty angry at Harry's cousin again, and he was going to make Dumbledore expel the boy if it killed him. The Healer said he'd stay until Harry woke up, which might be as long as dinnertime. He suggested Snape might get some rest, which Snape politely ignored, and he headed to Dumbledore's office.

* * *

"He should be expelled, Albus." said Snape on entering the headmaster's office.

"Ah, Severus. How's Harry?" asked Dumbledore, ignoring Snape's opening remark.

"He will make what we think is a full recovery. He may need a second dose of antidote. If we'd been a hour later..."

"But you weren't." said Dumbledore. "Take a seat, Severus." he said, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

"I'd rather stand." replied Severus.

"I said sit down." said Dumbledore, with added harmonics. Snape took a seat.

"That's better. Now, let's talk." said Dumbledore.

"You've had a worrying twenty-four hours, Severus, and little sleep, so I will assume your waspishness today is due to that."

"I'm perfectly fine." replied Severus, "I was coming to check that you are going to expel the boy."

"After you left earlier, which I'm glad you did, to go make the antidote..."

"I'm not about to listen to the whys and the wherefores when I've got to stop a student form dying, Albus." Snape snapped.

"I'd thank you for not interrupting," said Albus, "Minerva, Kingsley and I, along with Filius who wondered where we'd all got to when we weren't at breakfast, discussed the fate of Mr. Dursley."

"That won't have taken long. You expel him." insisted Snape.

"Severus, there's more to it than that, which you'd realise if you weren't quite so close to Mr. Potter. I will admit Mr. Dursley is a sociopath. He is not the sort of student we want at Hogwarts. However, he hasn't been raised well and is muggle-born. If we expel him the chances of his parents sending him to say Durmstrang is remote. Petunia and her husband will send him to a muggle school and neglect his magical education."

"If he doesn't learn any other spell, that's fine by me." said Snape irritably.

"Severus, he knows the Cruciatus curse. He can and will use magic, even if we take his wand away from him. He's the sort of person to steal someone else's. I wouldn't put it past him to break into Ollivander's to get one, or find the nearest wizarding house to Privet Drive and burgle it. We cannot pretend that taking his wand from him will prevent him doing magic or learning more. There must be a better way."

"You are suggesting keeping him here?!" said Snape incredulously. "You must be mad! A series of detentions and a trip over your desk is not a fitting punishment for attempting to kill his cousin."

"He did not intend to kill Harry, just to cause him pain. He knew there was an antidote. His intent was malicious, but it was not murderous. For that he would not have his wand broken even if we did expel him. Have you considered it is better to educate him? Nurture him to some semblance of good? Make him a better person?"

"You can't be serious?" said Snape. "He's not reasonable."

"Have you considered that the way he is is due to nurture rather than nature? Returning him to his parents, especially what I think is his father, will not be good for him. I can imagine that at some point when he is of age or even younger he would do something that may land him in Azkaban. There is such a thing as duty of care, Severus."

"Did you find out where he got the poison and how he administered it?" asked Severus, changing tack, refusing to acknowledge that there was logic in what Albus was saying.

"Yes, through a muggle vendor via his parents. And he gave them to him in yesterday's breakfast. Back to consequences, he will be sent home today. I have yet to inform his parents of any of this. They have had a floo installed, so he will be flooed home after I have talked with his parents. He will not be allowed any of his wizarding things during the school holidays. His trunk and its contents will remain here, including all his books and his wand. He will be searched before leaving. I do not trust him with anything wizarding world related. When he returns after the holidays he will be receiving counselling from a Healer at St. Mungo's. At the end of the academic year we will reassess whether or not we want Mr. Dursley to remain with us."

"I presume he's going to receive physical discipline?" said Snape.

"We discussed that too. Although I am reluctant as he is only a second year, I will be using a paddle. We agreed I would charm the paddle to deliver less than the full weight, however he will get ten strokes."

"He deserves harsher." said Snape dismissively.

"I knew you would think that. Perhaps you would like to test how charmed the paddle is before I use it on Mr. Dursley, to see what it will still be capable of inflicting?" asked Dumbledore with no hint of jest.

"That will not be necessary, I'm quite aware of what getting paddled feels like, thank you." said Snape, recollecting a number of times in his school career as well as once as a new teacher that he'd been on the receiving end of Albus' paddle.

"Which brings us neatly to round to what I wanted to talk to you about next." said Dumbledore quietly. "Tell me, Severus, what would you do if you were talking to a student who was disrespectful to you?"

"I'd put them in detention or take points." said Snape, curious as to where his was going."It would depend on whether they did it with other people listening, and how disrespectful they were."

"Interesting. Imagine they were a student who questioned your competency or judgment in front of other students."

"If they were in any house other than mine I would award a week of detentions with Argus and dock somewhere in the region of twenty points. If they were a Slytherin they'd be having a very painful discussion in my office involving my hand and their backside."

"What if they did it repeatedly?"

"There would be more than one conversation in my office. But I have never found the need for a second discussion."

"What if they insulted another student? A student who you might think of as a prefect, a senior student."

"If it was bad enough, a Slytherin would get a trip over my desk for that too, although I have a suspicion that my current senior prefect has taken matters into his own hands without bothering me with it. A student in first year became very polite and obedient just before Christmas."

"Why do you have these consequences, Severus? And I'm not questioning them, I just want to know why?"

"Because without consequences the students could do what they liked. We use detentions, or removal of privileges, but sometimes that's not enough, or those consequences are ignored. I've earned to right to teach because I have a Mastery in Potions and I'm good at what I do. I am due respect. The prefects are due the same. If we didn't punish those that broke the rules, then any student would do so and that way lies chaos with a school full of half-trained magical teenagers."

"Have I earned the right to be headmaster, Severus?"

"Of course, Albus, why would you ever ask...?" Severus trailed off as his brain caught up. There was a long uncomfortable silence. Albus continued to look piercingly at Severus who grew decidedly more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. He had a suspicion that he wasn't going to like the remainder of this meeting one bit.

"We had a conversation back in October, after you caught out Mr. Dursley, do you remember that conversation, Severus?"

How could he forget? "You explained that it was not my place to threaten students with consequences we could not carry out after I'd threatened him with Legilimency. You hit me with a stinging hex on my way out of your office."

"Did you at all take that as a hint that you should curb your tendencies to threaten students, either in your words, or your manner? Did you consider this before speaking to the students outside the infirmary yesterday?"

"Perhaps not." admitted Severus. Finally his morbid curiosity got the better of him. "Is there any way this conversation is going end without me getting hexed or worse?" he asked.

"Would you rather an official disciplinary hearing with the deputy headmistress and a member of the board of governors?" asked Dumbledore. Snape grimaced. Not a chance was he going to be publicly humiliated. He'd prefer private consequences, however painful.

"Not particularly." he replied.

"Now for a question that has been nagging me for a while." said Dumbledore calmly. "Where did Harry get the book with Sectumsempra in it?" he asked.

Snape shut his eyes. It was going to be a painful visit to the headmaster's office today. "My office." he said. "It was my textbook when I was at school, I'd written the spell in the margin. The book had other useful things in it so I kept it. It was not locked away. I regret that any student ever got their hands on it."

Dumbledore went to a cupboard in the corner of his office and retrieved the paddle. He pointed his wand to the paddle and muttered a spell. Severus swallowed. He knew how much it hurt. "Is that for Mr. Dursley?" he asked, afraid to find out the answer.

"That depends. You have a free choice. Either an official reprimand or you test the charm I've just applied for use with Mr. Dursley. You should have taken the hint when I hexed you earlier in the year, Severus."

Snape, stood up from his chair and Albus duly came round from his side of the desk. Snape removed his robes and bent over the desk, resting his weight on his forearms and clasping his hands together. He placed his forehead on his hands. This was going to hurt.

"When were you last in this position, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"In my second year of teaching, headmaster. I'd been a little too physical with a student when he'd blown up my classroom."

"It always amazes me how suddenly polite people get when they find themselves in your position. That might be the first time in months you've addressed me as headmaster. It's good to know that you acknowledge my position."

"Yes, headmaster." said Snape.

"Perhaps you can remind me why you're here." said Dumbledore, resting the paddle across Snape's backside.

"I disrespected you, headmaster." said Snape bracing himself for the stroke. It was going to hurt. Not like receiving a Crucio at Death Eater meeting hurt, but more humiliating as well as painful.

Dumbledore continued to question Snape before taking action. He wasn't about to make this easy for Severus. He'd been getting calls from the portraits in his office to take Severus to task a number of times, but recently it'd become unacceptable.

"Is it acceptable to threaten students while you're holding your wand, Severus?"

"No, headmaster." replied Severus. He'd not quite threatened the twins outside the infirmary last night, but only because he hadn't finished his sentence. He'd meant it though.

"Is it acceptable to insult Minerva?" asked Dumbledore.

Severus regretted speaking to Minerva the way he had. He knew she looked after all her students in the best way possible.

"No, headmaster."

The questioning continued. He'd barged into Dumbledore's office with no due courtesy a number of times. He'd questioned Dumbledore's actions at every turn. He'd physically barged past Poppy earlier today.

"Can we get on with this, Headmaster?" asked Severus, not quite managing to keep the worry and irritation from his voice.

The paddle was not a kind instrument of punishment and Albus had only used it on a handful of students in his entire tenure as headmaster, and only as an alternative to a student being expelled.

"Should I ask Minerva if she'd like to witness you punished for you insulting her ability to be head of house?" asked Dumbledore. Snape thought he might die with embarrassment if that happened, even though she had paddled him when he was a student.

"Please don't, headmaster." replied Severus, "I apologise for any offensive remark I made towards her and to you. I will be respectful of your positions and afford you the respect you are due." He knew the quality of his apology and whether he was genuine was the only thing that would prevent his embarrassment.

"You will be expected in the staff common room this evening after you seen to the needs of your house and your patient in the infirmary. You will be sitting down in the common room too. The people you have insulted will see that you have been punished accordingly." Without warning Albus brought his arm back and applied a single stroke to Severus' backside. The only response from Severus was a wince.

"You may get up, Severus." Severus raised himself up gingerly from Albus' desk, wincing as his trousers moved against his backside. Severus put his robes back on as Albus returned to his chair and placed the paddle on the desk.

"About 80% of full force should be sufficient, don't you think, Severus?" Snape nodded. What he just received was enough for a second year, especially as Albus was going to multiply that by ten. The boy would certainly regret poisoning another student. He gave a wry smile.

"Just out of curiosity, headmaster, what would happen if Mr. Dursley tries to heal himself?" Snape knew he himself wouldn't try. The ache would go away by morning and so long as the students didn't see anything different in his demeanour he could take his punishment, but he didn't think Dursley would be quite so accepting of the correction.

"As soon as he applied say a bruise balm, it would feel like another stroke of the paddle had landed. I will warn him of this."

"When will you speak to his parents?"

"I will invite them into school after lunch and send Dudley home before dinnertime. He is grounded to his dorm in the meantime with an elf supervising him. When do you think Harry will wake up?"

"Some time this afternoon hopefully. He's sleeping now. The Healer believes he should make a full recovery."

"Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have paperwork for the Ministry to finish. I sincerely hope not to have to repeat this conversation in the future, Severus."

"So do I, headmaster." replied Snape, and left Dumbledore's office closing the door quietly behind him.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Dudley pays the price

Snape went up to the infirmary to check on Harry. It was nearly one o'clock and he wanted to give Poppy a break if nothing else. Poppy went for a lie down and Snape summoned an elf to bring lunch for him and the Healer, which Snape ate standing up. Harry woke up just before 4pm. Snape saw his eyelids flutter open and was at his side at once. He ran a diagnostic spell and found him nearly healed, if still very tired. He'd not eaten anything in over twenty four hours and had had no nutritional value out of his breakfast yesterday since he'd thrown it up. That meant he'd been without food for essentially two days. No wonder Harry looked weak.

"Stay still Harry, don't try to move. How do you feel?" he asked softly.

"Like someone jumped up and down on my stomach repeatedly." said Harry.

"Throwing up that hard and then nearly having kidney and liver failure will do that to a person." said the Healer. "We need to get some energy inside you, then you can sleep for the rest of the day."

Snape summoned a nutrient potion and helped Harry sit up enough to drink it.

"You probably don't feel like solid food yet, but this will help you to recover quicker. You will also heal faster if you sleep, so here's a sleeping potion. It will let you sleep until morning. When you wake up you should be able to stomach breakfast." Snape helped Harry to swallow that and eased him back down into the bed.

"Thank you both for fixing me." said Harry sleepily. "And Madame Pomfrey."

"You're most welcome, Harry." said Snape and he reached own and squeezed Harry's hand gently. "Good night, sleep well, and I'll see you in the morning." Harry fell asleep and Severus asked the Healer if he wouldn't mind staying until Poppy returned as Severus needed to check on his house. The Healer said it would be no problem at all, so long as nobody minded if he had a sleep in the comfy chair in Poppy's office until she came back. Severus thanked the Healer for all his help and left the infirmary.

Poppy came back to relieve the Healer an hour later, and woke him up and sent him home with her thanks. She felt much better after a couple of hours sleep. She'd sleep in the bed in her office tonight as there was a student in the infirmary, but as he'd had sleeping potion, he wouldn't wake up at all, but she wanted to be here just in case.

* * *

Dumbledore invited Petunia and Vernon to Hogwarts that afternoon. When Petunia arrived Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were waiting in Dumbledore's office.

"Good afternoon, Petunia." said Albus, "It's good to see you again."

"Professor Dumbledore." said Petunia. She didn't like anyone at Hogwarts. The only person in the wizarding world she'd quite liked was the man from the ministry last summer. Dumbledore wasn't like him. She felt that Dumbledore could read her very soul. She hadn't really liked Professor McGonagall either. Petunia had been put out with how friendly she'd been towards the boy in summer, taking him for a walk around the neighbourhood like that.

"I'm afraid Vernon cannot be here, he's got an important meeting to attend at work." she lied. Vernon had said 'he wasn't going anywhere near that ruddy place if you paid him.' So Petunia had flooed here on her own. She had to admit, flooing was a fast means of transportation. Surrey to Scotland in a couple of seconds was much faster than the train or the motorway.

"That's not a problem, Petunia. I'm sure you'll be able to make any decisions that need to be made on your own." said Dumbledore. "We need to talk with you about Dudley I'm afraid."

"Is he alright? Is his injured? My poor baby Duddikins! I knew he was looking peeky at Christmas when he came home!" exclaimed Petunia with a wail.

Minerva made a face. Her Duddi what?!

"Dudley is in perfect health." said Dumbledore placatingly. "It's his behaviour I need to discuss with you."

"His behaviour? But he's a little angel!" said Petunia, believing her statement. Minerva found it very hard to maintain a neutral expression. She'd have to look away in a minute if this continued, she thought.

"Then I hate to be the bearer of ill news. Your son has deliberately harmed another student." responded Dumbledore.

"He would never do such a thing without being provoked!" Petunia retaliated.

"We know that that is not the case in this instance." said Dumbledore sadly. "Dudley deliberately poisoned your nephew who is, as we speak, recovering in the infirmary."

"My nephew?" asked Petunia momentarily not comprehending something. "Oh, you mean Harry." At the last moment she'd managed to say Harry and not Potter. She never mentally referred to him as her nephew, she mentally boxed him away as her sister's son. That way he was less personal for her. "He bullies Dudley. Dudley will have been standing up for himself."

Minerva snorted. She couldn't help herself.

"Again, I would like to reiterate that this is not the case in this instance. Dudley deliberately and maliciously, for no reason other than he wanted to, poisoned Harry. I believe you sent him a package recently. And that you knew what its contents were."

"Of course. Dudley asked for something for a project for Herbology." Petunia was proud of herself for saying the word Herbology without a trace of dislike for the wizarding world and its weird subjects. Why couldn't they call it botany or some such like normal people?

"The mushrooms you sent him were poisonous, deadly even." said Dumbledore.

"I told him as much. I made sure that he knew to be careful handling them. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him." she said. "Dudley didn't eat any did he?" she asked, suddenly afraid.

"No, but he fed them to Harry." said Dumbledore without any attempt to soften the blow.

"By accident?" she asked, trying desperately to cling to the belief that her son was innocent.

"No, he admitted it himself." said Dumbledore. "The usual punishment for such an action is to expel the student involved."

"No!" exclaimed Petunia. "You can't! He's going to be a wizard." Her belief that if he had wizarding powers then he would be better at it than Potter was the foundation of her acceptance of Dudley being a wizard. Vernon hadn't quite got there, even though she'd spent all year working on him. He'd kept muttering the word 'freaky' a lot. but for Petunia, Dudley being the best the only thing that mattered. There was a part of her that knew what Dumbledore said was the truth. She knew how Dudley treated the boy at home. But she loved her son, and when Petunia didn't want to see something, she buried her head in the sand. She wasn't about to look at her son and see a sociopathic teenager out of control. So she buried that treacherous thought deep down and she chose to do everything she could to protect him from himself and keep him at Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid that is our standard policy. Unless there are extenuating circumstances." said Dumbledore, providing the potential for an alternative.

"But he doesn't know how to be a wizard. He has wizarding powers with only nine months' training. He could hurt himself." said Petunia, jumping on the option like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood.

Minerva had to admit, Petunia was fast on the uptake.

"What is an acceptable punishment, if not expulsion then?" asked Dumbledore.

"Anything." replied Petunia, "But please don't expel my son."

"Are you aware of standard punishments in the wizarding world?" asked Dumbledore, curiously.

Petunia had a fair idea what Dumbledore was referring to. She'd remembered that day in summer when Severus had taken Potter to Diagon Alley. When they'd returned she'd heard him being sent to his room and then hadn't heard a sound until Snape left. That evening the boy had fidgeted in his seat as if he had a sore behind. At the time she'd been impressed with Severus. He'd gone up in her estimations. Anyone taking Potter to task like that got her approval. Only she got feeling that whatever the boy had done while out with Severus paled in comparison to Dudley being accused of poisoning someone.

Petunia nodded carefully. "I am aware. What punishment will he receive?"

"Ten strokes of the paddle." said Dumbledore without preamble.

Minerva braced for the explosion, but instead there was silence.

"He will be sent home today without any of his wizarding things and may return after the holidays. Whether he is invited back next year is a matter for later discussion."

Petunia still hadn't said anything. The silence extended before she spoke.

"Why so harsh?" she asked. She'd been to school before the government had banned the use of the corporal punishment in state-run schools. She'd known a good number of students at school to get caned. Everyone agreed it was a painful punishment. At least paddling was going to be less painful. When they'd looked into sending Dudley to Smeltings Academy they'd been informed of the use corporal punishment, it wasn't like it wasn't obvious with a Smeltings Stick being on the uniform list.

"Would you agree that children of wizarding families are more inherently dangerous to those around them than muggle children, especially after they receive their wand?" asked Dumbledore, willing to have the conversation.

"I would, but that doesn't explain harsh penalties." said Petunia.

"Then let me tell you about some of the spells that students learn here. There are many spells that are household spells, used for perfectly innocent tasks that could be abused in the wrong hands. Something simple like a water spell could be used to drown a person, a cutting spell fired in anger could cut an artery, or a spell to decrease velocity that you could use to catch a child falling from a tree could be used to make someone stop in front of muggle traffic. Many spells, used wrongly have a much more dangerous outcome than a child using a pair of scissors wrongly. Are you with me so far?"

Petunia nodded.

"Add to that potions that are made wrongly or taken in the wrong dosage, and it's a very worrying world. Then there are all the spells that have been developed over the years during times of war. Muggles have bombs and guns. Wizards do not. There is a whole gamete of very nasty spells, some of which will stop a heart immediately. Alive. Dead. Just like that. The wizarding world is a harsher world Mrs. Dursley."

"As such, actions have harsher consequences. Azkaban is the wizarding prison. Did the man from the ministry explain anything about that in summer?" Dumbledore asked. Petunia shivered. It sounded a much harsher place than any prison she'd read about in the papers.

"And in order to keep people from Azkaban, wizarding parents set tighter boundaries and harsher penalties for misbehaviour of their children. At Hogwarts we set the same boundaries and the same consequences. I will also point out that in private muggle schools in England, it is not currently illegal to cane a student. but this is not the muggle world, Mrs. Dursley, and this is how it is in the wizardign world."

Petunia needed Dudley to be a better wizard than Harry. That was how the world was. He could not be expelled. She looked at Dumbledore's face. He was resolute. There was no point in arguing. She found her voice.

"Otherwise you will expel him?"

"That is correct."

"Is there any other way?"

"I regret to inform you there is not." said Dumbledore quietly.

Petunia nodded. "So be it." She got up from her chair to flooed back to Privet Drive determined to spoil Dudley for the whole of the holidays.

* * *

Dumbledore had Dudley summoned to his office. He'd placed the charmed paddle on his desk. The boy would be under no illusion from the moment he walked in. He would floo him straight home from here. No need to let him return to his dorm.

Dudley stood in front of his desk eyeing the paddle.

"Are you aware of the pain you caused?" asked Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk looking at Dudley over steepled fingers.

"Yes." said Dudley. Of course he was, Dudley thought, pain was the point. He'd go back to his dorm, collect his things, especially the diary and spend the holidays at home talking to Tom. He hadn't had the chance to tell him about the pain the boy had been in since he'd be sent to his dorm this morning. The house-elf had been insistent that the only thing he do was sit on his bed.

"Are you in anyway sorry for your actions?" Dudley shook his head. They hadn't taken veritaserum into account, but the boy had been writhing around in pain, Dudley had been assured of this by tom, especially given the time it'd taken them to get round to questioning him.

"Your future at Hogwarts is undecided, Mr. Dursley. When you return after the holidays you will speak to a Healer from St. Mungo's. We are concerned for you."

"I'm fine." said Dudley.

"That statement itself is a cause for concern." replied Dumbledore sadly, but more convinced that keeping the boy at school and educating him was better than expelling him. He was sure a sore backside wouldn't amend the boy's way of thinking, but here was such a thing as justice, especially given the amount of pain he'd caused his cousin.

"You are aware of your punishment?" asked Dumbledore, picking up the paddle. Dudley nodded.

"Then remove your robe and bend over the desk." said Dumbledore, coming around the desk. Dudley removed his robes.

"Do you have your wand on you?" Dumbledore asked. Again, Dudley nodded. Dumbledore extended a hand and Dudley forfeited his wand. "You will get this back after the holidays." Dudley opened his mouth to protest but Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Dudley took the hint and didn't say anything. He bent over the desk. Dumbledore rested the paddle on Dudley's backside.

"Why are you being punished, Mr. Durlsey?"

"For poisoning Potter." replied Dudley. His backside felt like it was on fire when the stroke of the paddle landed. He yelped and rose from the desk, clutching his backside with both hands.

"You will reassume your position or I will start again." said Dumbledore. Dudley whimpered and bent over the desk again. The second stroke landed and Dudley yelped, tightening his fingers on the far edge of the desk. "Two." said Dumbledore.

"How many?" asked Dudley when he'd recovered enough to speak.

"Ten." came the replied. Dudley swallowed and put his forehead on the desk. Was it worth it? he wondered.

Dudley rose off the desk at six with a howl. Dumbledore had just landed a stroke across his sit spots.

"Six. Do you need me to stick you to the desk?" Dumbledore asked, "Because I will if you can't keep still, and you will get an extra stroke."

"Please don't," whimpered Dudley. "But that hurt."

"It's meant to." said Dumbledore as the next stroke landed just below the last. Dudley rose off the desk again and Dumbledore gave him no choice. He cast a sticking charm to stick his body to the desk and his feet on the floor after he'd reassumed the position.

Dudley cried out for the last four strokes, but only in pain, not that he was sorry, or pleading for him to stop. The other students he'd had to cane in the past had been contrite for the actions, at least after the first stroke had landed anyway. It worried him that Dudley was not. The Healer after the Easter holidays was going to have their work cut out.

He cancelled the charm and told Dudley to get dressed after he'd checked his robes for anything that shouldn't be in them. He made sure the boy didn't make a move to pick up his wand and then he activated the floo to Privet Drive.

"But I need my things." the boy said.

"Not for a muggle holiday, you don't." said Dumbledore, "Any revision you can do when you get back. Go home, think about your actions and their consequences. Your future at Hogwarts depends on it, Mr. Dursley. also, I should warn you, if you make any attempt to magically heal your backside, for example if you think you'd like to buy a balm in Diagon Alley, it will feel like you are over my desk again. So don't."

Dudley reluctantly stepped into the floo. He'd miss speaking to Tom over the holidays.

* * *

That evening Severus ate dinner in his office, he wasn't looking forward to having to sit down in the staff common room that evening. He knew Dumbledore was counting it as part of his punishment, and he knew they'd be no way out of it. If he didn't appear at a reasonable hour then he knew either Dumbledore would send for him or fetch him himself. Severus got the feeling he wouldn't like either of those options.

After he'd graded a few papers and checked with the prefects that the house hadn't fallen apart in the twenty four hours he'd been otherwise occupied he reluctantly headed over to the common room.

He was accosted on the way by a group of exuberant Gryffindors.

"Thank you, Professor Snape." said Hermione. "We went to the infirmary to visit Harry, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let us see him. She said he's sleeping, but she said you'd all worked through the night to save him. We wanted to say thank you." the other nodded and murmured their thanks. The twins seemed just a bit off though.

"Being a Potions Master does mean you get to cure people, Miss Granger." said Snape, feeling awkward at the genuine gratitude he was receiving. He wasn't sure how to take a compliment, especially from a student. It wasn't something that happened very often. "Mr. Potter is also lucky to have friends who care as much as you do. I know you spent yesterday evening camped out outside the infirmary until the headmaster shooed you away." He then addressed just the twins, "You knew I had reason to ask if you'd done anything, given your track records. But perhaps I shouldn't have been quite so harsh. Our searching for the cause had been very fruitless by that point of the evening." What was getting into him? Snape thought. That was nearly an apology! To a student, no less! He made a mental note to be extra strict with his classes tomorrow. Then he remembered tomorrow was the holidays. Damn. Then he remembered all these students were staying over the holidays - he'd seen the list. He'd make sure to be colder with them than normal for the duration, just to make up for this lapse. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep recently.

Snape left them on the corridor and headed up to the common room. All the other staff were there already. He'd hoped to arrive at least before everyone was there to see his entry. Little did he know that Albus had suggested to those at dinner that they go up to the common room straight away to toast the end of the school term and the start of the Easter break.

So when Severus arrived all the staff saw him wince as he sat down. Jsut he one stroke had hurt and would smart for the remainder of the day. He didn't catch anyone's eye. It was Minerva who took pity on him and brought him a coffee.

"If you like I can cast a cushioning charm." she said quietly in his ear as she handed him the drink. Severus swallowed him pride and nodded gratefully. It really did hurt to sit down.

"I apologise, Minerva. I was out of line." said Severus quietly.

"Seeing as you managed to save a student's life today, I think I can forgive you, Severus." said Minerva with a smile and gave his arm a squeeze. She'd always have a soft spot for Severus.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Holidays

Harry remained in the infirmary until Monday and was fed more nutrient potions than he could count. His friends were allowed to visit a couple of times, but were shooed out after half an hour each time by Madame Pomfrey citing that Harry needed rest. Harry was happy when on Saturday, the members of the Slytherin quidditch team who were left in school came to see him. Harry realised then that although he hadn't made strong friendships in Slytherin, there were still people in there that cared about him.

Snape came to see how he was a couple of times. He'd told him quietly that Dudley had poisoned him, deliberately, and that although the boy had known that the mushrooms were not life threatening given the right antidote, he'd known that the antidote was hard to find and planned for Harry to be in much pain. Snape had also told him that Dudley had been paddled by Dumbledore, sent home for the holidays without any of his wizarding possessions and that him remaining at Hogwarts would be reviewed. Snape didn't tell Harry about the mind Healer though, as he felt that that was a private matter.

Professor McGonagall came up to the infirmary just as Harry was getting ready to leave. She informed him that given that lack of lower school staying during the holidays, Harry would be allowed in the Gryffindor common room, as his friends and a couple of Hufflepuffs were the only second years staying during the holidays. He would have to sleep in his own dorm, and wasn't allowed in the Gryffindor dorms, just the common room. She told him that the password for the Fat Lady was 'Chocolate bunnies' and it would be changed when the students returned to Hogwarts at the end of the break.

When Harry got to Gryffindor tower and let himself in the common room he was mobbed by his friends. He was also greeted warmly by the upper school Gryffindors that were staying over the holidays.

"Harry!" squealed Hermione, as she launched herself at him and enveloped him in the biggest hug.

"We've been so worried about you!" said Ron, "Madame Pomfrey would hardly let us see you and said you needed rest. Are you fully recovered?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "I think they were very worried, especially on Thursday night. I don't think any of them slept. There was a Healer from St. Mungos too."

"They should name a bed in there after you, the amount of time you spend up there!" said Neville with a grin.

"Not a whole bed," said George, "Perhaps just a bed pan!" he added with a smirk.

Everyone laughed, it was so nice to just be with each other and to not be worried about something. Harry was so happy he was Dudley-free for a couple of weeks.

"Please tell me there's just the smallest piece of cake left." said Harry, pleadingly hopeful.

"Even better!" said Fred, "We asked the house-elves to put a stasis charm on the whole thing until you got out of the infirmary. We really didn't do any celebrating on Thursday as by dinnertime we knew something was up with you."

"So what's for lunch today?" asked Harry hopefully.

"Cake!" said the twins together.

After lunch, when they went back up to Gryffindor tower, the elves had brought the twins the cake. It would feed everyone left in Gryffindor twice over, even if you ate more than is good for you. When they'd eaten as much as they could without throwing up there was still a third of the cake left.

"Um. Would either of you mind if I took a slice to Marcus, Adrian and Terence? They're staying for the holidays and they came to see me in the infirmary and I want to say a kind of thank you for caring about me."

"Of course! They're good fun, we should have thought about inviting them back for cake, they're great to practise quidditch with." said George as he cut three large pieces of cake and put them on plates.

"Come on, we'll come with you to Slytherin. It's rare we get to go to another common room, but bringing cake seems like a good excuse." said Fred.

"No funny business in there!" said Harry, knowing what the twins were like.

"What, none at all?" asked Fred, crestfallen.

"None at all." confirmed Harry. Fred emptied his pockets of a bag of sweets that he was intending on 'accidentally' leaving in there.

"And they do what?" asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"They might turn your tongue bright blue for twenty four hours." said George innocently.

"Please be sensible, just for once." said Harry, "I want to be allowed in here again, and if you do that, chances are, I'll be banned."

"Okay, okay." said Fred and took a plate from George and the three of them went to Slytherin.

They got a couple of funny looks when they entered, but on offering cake to Marcus, Adrian and Ternece, they were welcomed more warmly and they wished the twins a happy belated birthday and they chatted for a while. They organised that in order to let off a bit of steam they'd play a bit of quidditch at around 3pm every day. Harry looked forward to that. He enjoyed it when they'd played together, but they'd only managed it about twice a week. Now it was the holidays and they could play during the day, they could fit it in around the senior students revision and that would work well.

Harry thought the best part of the holidays would be playing quidditch with his friends. He was wrong about that. Next day they were all playing a game of quidditch in the afternoon. The sixth and seventh years had had a tutorial that morning for DADA doing practical spell work and had practised disarming and shields. Marcus and Oliver had worked together in the tutorial. Oliver had warmed up a bit to the Slytherins practising with them when he realised that his team benefited from it a lot. Even if Katie had to hit him over the head with the idea more than once. So he'd got to know Marcus a bit and had offered to partner him in that morning's tutorial.

Oliver flew over to Marcus during their game and whispered something to him. Marcus grinned and nodded and flew away from him a bit. Oliver pointed his wand and cast a stinging hex at him and Marcus threw up a shield. The twins saw this and grinned, and then the carnage started. It was hexes and shields everywhere. Harry and Ron didn't know shields, but they were both good enough on a broom to duck and weave to avoid the spells thrown at them. The quaffle was forgotten as they played. They'd split into teams so that Oliver, Harry and the twins were on one team, and Adrian, Terence, Ron and Angelina on the other. Scoring was soon forgotten in the mayhem and fun, and they were all laughing so hard at the increasing silliness of some of the hexes that none of them noticed Professor Flitwick heading their way to see what the commotion was all about.

Fred fired a Bat-Bogey hex at Terence who ducked, and the hex continued towards the professor who put up a shield to defect the hex easily. Fred wasn't expecting the Expelliarmus that was fired back at him though and he lost his wand. He turned to yell at whoever had done that - they'd tacitly agreed that Expelliarmus would just be annoying as it would cause people to land to retrieve their wand.

"Who bloody did that? What the hell did you do tha... oops." said Fred, as he realised that he was mid way through a rant at a professor. He stopped dead in mid air. Everyone else soon realised there was something up and looked down to see Flitwick.

Flitwick pointed at the ground in front of him and everyone landed, looking rather sheepish.

"And you're doing what exactly?" asked Flitwick.

"Erm, revision?" tried Oliver.

"Try again." replied Flitwick.

"Inter-house unity?" suggested Marcus. He might be senior Slytherin prefect, but he still knew what fun was and wasn't beyond trying to talk his way out of trouble with a bit of humour. Flitwick just raised an eyebrow at him.

"I've got it!" said Fred. "We were playing silly beggars!"

"Yes, you were." said Flitwick.

"But it was only in the spirit of learning." said George. "And fun, obviously. Oh, and celebration. We're celebrating Harry being alive, and you can't complain at that." he said, hoping that if they gave enough light hearted reasons, they might not be in detention for the whole holidays.

"Then it's time to do some learning inside. Go do something useful before dinner. Some real learning perhaps. I will be speaking to your heads of house. You are well aware that hexing each other is not allowed at Hogwarts." he turned and went back inside, fully expecting his instruction to be carried out.

The group went inside dispirited, Harry went with the Gryffindors while the other three went back to Slytherin. They were surprised and worried that no-one came looking for them before dinner. At dinner the Gryffindors and Harry looked over at Slytherin (Harry had been allowed to eat with Gryffindor for the holidays), and Marcus glanced over at them and shook his head slightly. Clearly Snape hadn't searched them out either.

After dinner Dumbledore rose from his chair and the hall went silent.

"It would seem today that a number of students found an alternative method of DADA revision today. Practical revision is only allowed with a member of staff present. Any other kind of practical revision will stop immediately. On an unrelated note, I would like to announce that we will be starting up the dueling club for the remainder of the holidays for an hour every other evening. Professors Flitwick and Snape will be in charge. All students are welcome."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and didn't miss his friends or Marcus do the same. Harry looked over towards the head table and found Flitwick looking over at them. Fred stood up and toasted the professor with a grin. Snape leaned over the Flitwick and said something they couldn't hear which caused Flitwick and Snape to grin at them. Harry had a funny feeling that if anything needed a practical demonstration in the first dueling session, they'd be called upon to be on the receiving end.

* * *

The dueling sessions were really good fun, and well as instructional. They were designed as revision, not just for fun. They weren't the disorganised chaos that Lockhart's had been earlier in the year. They'd lasted only two sessions before they'd been stopped. Fred had a theory that it was because Dumbledore had stopped them due to Lockhart's incompetence, and no-one could find fault with that idea.

Although shielding charms weren't taught until fourth year in the syllabus, everyone got to have a go, although the professors had spent most of their time perfecting senior students' shields rather than working with the lower school. Harry's shield was weak and could be easily broken with a well placed hex, but it wasn't bad for his first few attempts.

The best part about the dueling sessions was that for the last one at the end of the holidays Flitwick had organised a tournament for anyone who wished to enter. About thirty students entered. Everyone faced a random person and the winner went through to the next round. The twins had both won their first round match and had been knocked out in the second. Harry, Ron and Neville all lost their first round matches. Hermione hadn't entered. She'd said there wasn't much point without a decent shield. It hadn't stopped the boys though.

Oliver got through to the quarter finals and was knocked out by Adrian, much to his disappointment. Adrian was knocked out in the next round. The final was between Marcus and Roger Hilliard, a seventh year Ravenclaw. Marcus was good all round, but Roger had a much faster and stronger shield which meant Marcus had to do more ducking and moving. He eventually got tired and a stinging hex got through to his wand arm. His wand went flying and that ended the tournament to great applause from the watching Ravenclaws.

* * *

On the last day of the holidays, Harry got to the Gryffindor common room early. The Hogwarts Express would arrive mid-afternoon and he wanted to spend as much time with his friends in the comfort of the common room as he could. He found Fred and George whispering quietly to each other when he got there. They stopped as soon as Harry came near.

"Do I want to know?" asked Harry apprehensively. They usually included him in their plans, even if he had no interest in helping them carry them out. It was a bit off-putting that he wasn't to be included here.

"You really don't want to know." said George, making no attempt to explain what they were up to.

"You didn't see us either. Don't mention it to the others. I promise it's not aimed at any of you."

"Dudley?" asked Harry quick to work out what didn't include him, and the fact that they'd asked him not to mention in to the others. Plausible deniability was a good thing.

"Like he said," said Fred. "You don't want to know."

Ron and Neville came down from the dorms at that point and they all had a normal day. Harry soon forgot about the twins and whatever they were up to.

* * *

"All clear!" whispered Fred.

"If we get caught we're toast." muttered George, following Fred out of the DADA classroom carrying a large, locked cupboard between them.

"I'm keeping an eye on the map. No-one's about, we've just got to get over to the Astronomy tower cellars. Stop panicking."

"Then walk a bit bloody quicker, this is heavy." said George. "And I'm not bloody panicking."

"You've got to admit, this is going to be the best pay back yet though." said Fred, suddenly coming to a stop and motioning with a free hand for George to be silent.

They stood in the corridor holding their breath while Fred studied the map. After a minute Fred breathed out again. It was after curfew on Sunday evening. The rest of school had returned in time for dinner and the twins had sneaked out after curfew to carry out a little payback. Today was preparation. Tomorrow was the show. They'd tried to work out if they could make this particular payback public, but decided that it would be much more effective to be private. It was a shame they'd miss it too, but you can't have everything.

"Keep going," he said, "that was Filch. At least he's not got that damn cat with him else we'd probably be caught."

"Think of something jolly why don't you!" said George.

They nearly got to the Astronomy tower when the cupboard started to rattle and shake.

"Quick!" said George, "There's no way I'm opening it out here."

They gave up stealthy and ran the rest of the way. Fred opened the tower's cellar door and they went inside, dropping the cupboard on the floor, from which came a noise like someone landing heavily on the floor.

"Oops. It's going to be very unhappy when we let it out." said Fred.

"Not at us though." said George with a grin.

They put the cupboard upright in a corner of the room and put a couple of items on top of it to make it look like it'd been there a while if anyone came in. The noises from inside it had stopped now that it was still.

"Tomorrow when we open the cupboard we're going to have to unlock it and run, I have no intention of getting caught by that thing." said George fervently.

"Me neither." said Fred with a shudder, "Let's go write a note to get lardboy down here. How's your Sinistra handwriting coming along?" asked Fred.

"After the poor essays we've had back between us, I've got a fair amount of her handwriting to copy from." said George with a grin.

The twins hot-footed it back to Gryffindor, checking the map all the way. The Fat Lady grumbled as she let them back in, she was too tired to threaten to tell McGonagall about them through and let them in.

* * *

Albus, Minerva, Severus and a Healer from St. Mungo's, Healer Jones, we're sitting in Albus' office.

"Mr. Dursley arrived back today." said Dumbledore. "His trunk and things were returned to him, I had the house-elves put them in storage for the holidays - I wouldn't entirely trust some of the other members of his dorm not to have done anything drastic with it while he was away."

"I'm sure they'd have been inventive about though." said Severus with a smirk.

"I'm sure they would." agreed Dumbledore. "Now, Healer Jones, when would you like to have an initial conversation with Mr. Dursley? We could pull him out of classes or arrange a time when he's free, whichever you think best. You can decide on where you want to speak to him too. We can arrange it so that Gryffindor common room is free at a certain time if you think familiar surroundings for him would be best, or we can arrange an office for you to use if you think that would be better."

"I would like to meet with him as soon as is convenient." said the Healer, "Any available office that he's not got an association with might work best. I'm not sure how he's going to be and I don't want him to have negative association with Gryffindor over this. I've read his school report and I don't think borrowing your office would be a good idea either. Somewhere neutral."

"There's a spare office near Ravenclaw's common room, I'll get the elves to make it comfortable." said Dumbledore.

"Will you be making him aware that you are reporting what he says to us?" asked Minerva.

"No, not in the first instance. I don't want him to be guarded with me. But this does also mean that none of you can use what I tell you against him. We're trying to rehabilitate him, not hold anything against him." replied the Healer. "His parents are aware of this arrangement. At least his mother is. I spoke to her through the floo and Vernon Dursley was not in the room at the time. I'm a bit suspicious about that. I would quite like to go and talk to the both of them too at some point."

"Vernon Dursley doesn't like having much to do with the wizarding world from what any of us have seen." said Minerva. "I'd recommend you start with Petunia."

"In that case I'll speak to Dudley on Tuesday evening. I've got another patient to see tomorrow, and hopefully I can get Petunia to talk to me some time during the week. Does she work? Or can I speak to her in the house while her husband is at work?"

"You should be able to speak to her during the day." replied Dumbledore.

"Excellent." said the Healer. "I will report to you all again on Tuesday evening after I've spoken with the boy."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Dudley's Fear

Next morning before breakfast Professor McGonagall summoned Dudley to her office.

"Mr. Dursley, here is your wand," she said, passing him the item, "You will hand it in to the professor who teaches your last class each day and I will return it to you each morning. You will not be permitted your wand during the weekends either. You are also grounded to Gryffindor tower as soon as you have finished classes each day, excluding eating meals in the great hall. We will consider what to do on the weekends after we have observed your behaviour during this week."

"A mind Healer from St. Mungo's, Healer Jones, will speak to you tomorrow evening after classes. He will send owl you with a time and location tomorrow morning. As you were not permitted to take any of your things home over the holidays we appreciate that you were unable to do any revision. A number of your professors will be contacting you to check with you how your revision for your exams is going, and may assign you extra work. Any questions?"

Dudley shook his head. He knew they didn't trust him, and arguing would only get him into more trouble. He hadn't had the opportunity to talk to Tom yet, as there had always been someone around yesterday evening, especially the way the twins were watching him. The twins were beginning to worry him. Perhaps he'd miscalculated with them.

It was going to be hard to find a quiet moment if he was confined to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps if he made sure to stay out of trouble this week he'd be given some freedom at the weekend. Hopefully he could find a quiet half hour in his dorm to talk to Tom one evening, even if it was after lights out, as most of the other boys slept like the dead.

* * *

Dudley didn't have a good day. No-one in Gryffindor was speaking to him, and no-one wanted to work at the same workbench as him. Snape was particularly snide in Potions, and the headmaster was particularly strict with him in Transfiguration.

At lunchtime he received a note to meet Professor Sinistra after dinner in her classroom in the Astronomy tower. He didn't find this at all odd after McGonagall had explained about extra work that morning, and he didn't think he would need to tell anyone that he was going there, after all, he'd been summoned by a professor, so that was hardly going against his grounding.

After dinner he headed up to the Astronomy tower. He was about to knock on the classroom door when he read the note pinned to it. 'Mr. Dursley, I'm just finishing unpacking some new equipment in the cellar, come and meet me there. You can give me a hand, then we'll go over some of your essays. AS.'

Dudley headed down to the cellar. He didn't bother knocking as he was expected so walked straight in. The room was lit and he had a brief glimpse of a creature hiding in the corner before it morphed into his father. He heard the door lock behind him.

"Dad?" said Dudley surprised.

Vernon advanced towards him, somehow larger than life and angry, "You worthless boy!" snarled his father, "What did you have to do freaky things for?!"

Dudley backed away in terror, "I didn't mean to." he whispered.

Vernon's large, purple, moustached face leaned into Dudley, "I should lock you in the cupboard until Christmas, bringing shame on your family, Freak!" he sneered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" said Dudley, trapped in the nightmare. He ran to the door and rattled it, but it wouldn't open. He turned back to his enraged father and closed his eyes, unable to see his father looking that angry and disappointed at him.

When he opened them it was like the scene reset. Vernon was once again halfway across the room and advancing towards him, "I've always known there was something abnormal about you, nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured!" he snarled, reaching for his belt. Dudley closed his eyes and the scene reset again.

"Good for nothing, Freak! That's all you are," his father barked, his purple mottled face glaring at his son, "There will be no more of that funny business under my roof." Dudley had retreated backwards until he jumped in terror when he backed into the wall. He shut his eyes again and slid down the wall, tears leaking down his face.

"It's not my fault." he whimpered.

When Dudley opened his eyes the scene had reset except that Vernon was now towering over him, "I should just thrash it out of you, once and for all, boy!" he yelled his beetroot red face furiously staring with his eyes aflame with rage and hatred.

Dudley closed his eyes unable to do anything but cower on the floor.

* * *

Professor Snape was on duty that evening. He made sure to patrol outside Gryffindor tower a little more frequently than his normal round allowed, just in case the Dursley boy thought to go for an evening stroll. He'd also started his patrol early. The first evenings back every term had more than their fair share of incidents and it was easier for everyone if there was a greater staff presence around the place.

"Professor Snape!" Snape turned at the sound of his name, and was surprised to see that the Fat Lady had called to him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"I wanted to report that Mr. Dursley left the tower. I asked him where he was going, knowing that he's confined to the tower. He said he was going to meet a professor. He'd gone before I got the chance to ask him who."

"Thank you." said Snape and stalked off to the staff common room to find out if someone had indeed summoned Mr. Dursley. The Fat Lady was, in Severus' opinion, very gullible when it came to believing the excuses the Gryffindors gave her for leaving at all hours.

When he got to the staff common room he found every member of staff present bar Hagrid and Dumbledore.

"Have any of you asked to meet with Mr. Durlsey?" asked Severus addressing the whole room.

On getting only shaking heads or murmurs of no, he used the floo to contact Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore hadn't summoned him either.

"It appears Mr. Dursley is breaking his curfew on the first evening." said Snape grimly to Professor McGonagall, on finishing his conversation with Albus. "Would you care to come and look for him? Anyone else?" asked Snape.

Filius and Pomona offered to help. Binns wouldn't be much use, he probably had trouble recalling what Dursley looked like, and Aurora had a large pile of marking she was only half way through. The four of them split up and searched the school.

They'd been searching for a hour, having arranged to send a patronus to the others when one of them found the boy, when Snape got to the Astronomy tower. He went to check in the classroom, but the lights were off and the room looked undisturbed. He headed back down the tower and was about to leave when he heard a faint noise from below him. He went down the stairs to the cellar. The noise grew louder. It was a man's voice shouting.

"You worthless, good for nothing Freak. You don't deserve to be my son! I should have stamped it out of you years ago!"

Snape tried the door, but found it locked.

"Alohamora!"

He burst through the door, wand still out. He was shocked to see Vernon Dursley. He was even more shocked to see him standing over his cowering son who had backed himself into a corner and was staring at his father wide eyed, tears running down his face.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?!" Snape said forcefully, wand pointing directly at Vernon. Vernon turned around to look at Snape and then flickered into Voldemort and then back to Vernon.

A boggart! Snape thought.

" Riddikulus!" he said, pointing his wand towards the boggart.

Dudley had turned his head towards the door when Snape came in. His father turned to face the professor and somehow turned into someone else. Snape pointed his wand and cast a spell. Dudley didn't quite see what his father turned into before Snape had banished it from the room. Now there was only Dudley and Snape left in the room. Somehow that didn't make him feel much better.

"Mr. Dursley." said Snape walking over to the boy. From where Dudley was, Snape was tall and menacing, especially the way he could apparently glide across a room in his robes. Dudley cowered further into the corner.

Snape advanced towards the boy, contemplating giving him a piece of his mind there and then when he saw the boy's face in the light. He knew what terror looked like, he'd seen it on people's faces at Death Eater meetings. He stopped. He wondered what to say and do next. There was a part of him that wanted to be snide and condescending. They boy deserved the life scaring out of him for what he'd done to Harry, but the longer he looked at his face, the more he knew that the boy was genuinely terrified and he just couldn't let himself be that cruel. He had to remember this was a twelve year old, one that was having a mind Healer investigate him at that.

"Mr. Dursley," he repeated, forcing his voice to a semblance of gentle. "You are safe. There is nothing here that will hurt you."

"He... he..." whimpered Dudley.

"There was a boggart. It is a magical creature that personifies a person's worse fear. I banished it. We are alone." said Snape softly. Why was he being nice to the boy? There was a bit of his mind raging at him to take the boy down a peg or two further, to make him feel insignificant, but the professional part of him took control and buried those thoughts.

He put his wand away and extended his hand towards the boy to help him up. Dudley was shaking like a leaf. How long had he been trapped in here with the creature? Snape hoped not he the whole time they'd been looking, that was over an hour. He'd need chocolate like you'd give someone who'd encountered a dementor if it was that long. When Dudley was on his feet, Snape reached for his wand again and sent a patronus to the other professors searching to say that he'd found the boy and would meet Minerva in her office.

Snape walked towards the door one hand on Dudley's shoulder. He was still quivering.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Snape asked as they were walking back to Gryffindor.

Dudley shook his head.

"How long were you trapped in the cellar?" asked Snape.

Dudley shrugged. He couldn't have answered even if he was inclined to. The nightmare scene had reset itself over and over again, he'd lost count of how many times, and couldn't begin to guess how long it'd been. He'd been stuck in the corner of the room, unable to do anything but listen to and watch his father.

When they reached Minerva's office Snape knocked and entered without waiting for a response. He indicated for Dudley to sit in the chair in front of the desk. Minerva looked surprised by that. She never invited students to sit down when they were in trouble and neither did Severus. It must be serious.

Snape summoned an elf and asked it to bring hot chocolate. Minerva's eyebrows climbed a little higher.

"Mr. Dursley has had a rough evening." began Snape, trying to work out if they should try to make boy to open up or whether they should leave it to the Healer.

Snape knew what he'd seen. The boy's worst fear was his own father. He was very confused. He'd seen the family interact briefly over summer. The parents had doted on the boy. Vernon had been shocked by the news his son was a wizard, but the boy had seemed only too pleased to go home at Christmas and Easter. It was clear from when he came back after Easter that he'd been taken to Diagon Alley over the holidays given a few of the things he'd come back with - nothing he shouldn't have, but proof that he'd interacted with the wizarding world over the holidays at least. His parents had been connected to the floo network too. Yet he'd clearly heard boggart Vernon call Dudley a freak.

He'd only heard Vernon use that word once before, when Harry had first had his accident in summer. Snape had put it down to shock and anger, and humiliation at being essentially knocked out by a child. He could understand a muggle with no education thinking that magic was a bit freaky in the general sense of the word. Snape had been suspicious at the time, but hadn't seen other evidence of real abuse. Harry had a room - there were toys in it, albeit broken ones, he knew that Petunia and Vernon were neglectful and uncaring and were clearly bad parents towards Harry, but although Poppy's scan of Harry when he first started the year had shown malnutrition and evidence of Dudley-related related injuries, he hadn't found evidence of Vernon or Petunia laying a finger on him.

None of that helped to explain Dudley's fear. Dudley was afraid of his father. But he was clearly spoilt by both parents, not just his mother. Snape was glad Albus had appointed a mind Healer to look at the problem. There were clearly things Harry hadn't told Snape, although that wasn't surprising, and now even more clearly, there was a bigger problem with Dudley than they'd first realised, not just that he'd been raised to be a nasty little bully.

There was no point in trying to illicit information out of him now. There was no way he'd talk to either Minerva or himself. He confined himself to the facts as he explained to Minerva what he'd seen. There was no point pretending he hadn't seen what he had to Dudley though. The boy wasn't stupid.

"Mr. Dursley was trapped in the Astronomy tower cellar with a boggart. He didn't have his wand with him, although it wouldn't have helped as he hasn't learnt about boggarts yet and wouldn't know how to defeat it. I think he'd been trapped in there for an hour. The boggart took the form of his father."

Minerva put her hand up to her mouth in shock. Trapped for an hour with the embodiment of his own worst nightmare for an hour wasn't something she wanted to contemplate too closely.

"Dudley," she said softly, "Why were you over there in the first place? You were supposed to stay in Gryffindor."

"I got a note from Professor Sinistra." said Dudley, reaching into his robes and producing a piece of parchment.

Minerva took it off him. "I'll speak to Professor Sinistra about this, but I don't think she wrote it. Did you not think it strange to meet her in the cellar?"

"I went to her classroom, but there was another note on the door that said to meet her in the cellar as she was moving a few things and she said I should help her, then we'd go through my essays." replied Dudley quietly.

"There was no note when I got there." said Snape. "I presume the perpetrators removed it. They locked him in, Minerva." said Snape, unconsciously saying 'they'. He knew exactly who he thought was responsible.

Minerva nodded. "Mr. Dursley, return to the common room or your dorm. I will inform Healer Jones about this incident." Dudley got up and left Minerva's office.

Snape sat down in the chair Dudley had vacated.

"My money's on the twins. Payback for him poisoning Harry."

"How do you feel about that, Severus?" asked Minerva. She could clearly see Severus was in two minds. The one that said the boy deserved everything he got after treating Harry how he had, especially trying to poison him, but she could see the other too, the one that as a teacher looking after students in school, couldn't abide bullying in any form, especially given the twins (she agreed with him about who it had been) had been so harsh. She thought the same way. It wasn't exactly undeserving, but couldn't go unremarked.

"I feel like l think I might scare the living daylights out of them." said Severus.

"Perhaps you could deal with the twins this time." said Minerva, "Sometimes I think I should put a revolving door on my office for them, they're in here that often. Were you planning on just scaring them, or chastising them too?"

"That all depends on them." said Severus getting up to leave.

"I'll send you the twins in around ten minutes." said Minerva, getting up to leave also.

* * *

Severus was sitting behind his desk in his office when the twins knocked on the door.

He glowered at them and pointed to a spot in front of his desk. They had the good sense to look apprehensive at least. He got the feeling that Minerva sending them to him to deal with was working to scare them as it was.

"Would either of you like to hazard a guess as to where I found Mr. Dursley earlier this evening?" Severus asked silkily.

There was a moment's pause before Fred went for denial.

"In the Gryffindor common room? That where he's meant to be."

"Perhaps one of you could read this note." said Severus, ignoring the answer, handing the note purporting to be from Aurora to George. He'd quickly floo called the staff common room to check with Aurora that she hadn't written the note before the twins arrived. The twins both flushed just a little. Gryffindors didn't bluff well, they were far too honest. It made dealing with them easier though.

"In the Astronomy tower?" asked George, feigning innocence.

"And can you guess what was also in the Astronomy tower?" asked Snape. The boys shook their heads, pretending to not know anything.

"What's your worst fear, Mr. Weasley?" asked Snape, looking Fred in the eye. Fred flicked a look towards George and didn't answer. "I'd like an answer. I know that last year, even given the ineptitude of Professor Quirrell, you studied boggarts and it included a practical lesson. What, Mr. Weasley, is your worst fear?" asked Snape slowly and menacingly.

Neither boy answered.

"Let me put it this way, I know exactly what you did and you're going to answer my questions, as it's the only way you're not going to end up in the headmaster's office explaining yourselves to him, and let me assure you, he will not be as lenient as I am. His classes were disrupted today due to the lessons he'd planned involving a boggart being missing a key ingredient, namely one boggart. Now, you can either discuss the matter with me, or with Headmaster Dumbledore, so, which is it?"

Fred licked his lips nervously and glanced at George again.

"My... My worst fear is George being dead." said Fred. George nodded his head in agreement. They'd done the practical lesson with the boggart last year, and it'd terrified them. They'd been more inseparable than usual for the next few weeks.

"When you did the practical lesson, did you see the body of your dead brother?" asked Snape mercilessly. The twins nodded.

"How long did you see this for, until the boggart was banished, either by you knowing the counter, or by the professor if you couldn't achieve success with the Riddikulus spell?"

Fred shrugged, "About twenty seconds."

"Not an hour then?" snapped Snape.

Neither of the twins had so far admitted to what they'd done, and to be fair, Snape hadn't asked them outright. But he knew, and they knew he knew, it was just that at the moment they could all pretend everything was a bit theoretical.

There was a long silence.

"He bloody deserved it!" responded Fred angrily. "Yes, it was us. Did Harry deserve poisoning? He nearly died! How close was he to dying before you found an antidote? An hour? Less? The bastard deserved it!"

"I am aware of how close a call Mr. Potter had, Mr. Weasley, and you can be grateful I will overlook your language for the time being, I am asking you to consider what it's like to be trapped with your worst nightmare for an hour? I am wondering if you know how vindictive you were?"

"We know." said George simply. "We'd do it again too. I know what my worst nightmare is, so does Fred. But a close second is what nearly happened to Harry. We've got close this year, he's like a brother to us. So if you're going to put us over your desk we consider that fair payment."

Snape picked up a ruler from his desk and idly twirled it between his fingers. "And what are your feelings on stealing the headmaster's resources and putting out his day?"

"He might need better locks?" asked Fred slyly, and then looked at his shoes on seeing that Snape wasn't seeing the funny side of that comment.

Snape stood up from his desk holding the ruler and moved to stand behind the twins. They were under no misgivings about what was about to happen. Snape applied a single swat, hard, to each of their backsides, enough to make them both wince.

"The only reason you are getting off so lightly, is that unbeknownst to you, some good may have come from your actions. If you ever steal any resources from any professor ever again you will not be sitting comfortably for the rest of the day, and if you ever pull any prank so cruel again, I will personally see to it you don't sit for an entire week. Dismissed."

Snape turned to sit back at this desk and the twins scurried out of his office. He would carry out that last threat if they did anything so cruel again. The only reason he hadn't spanked them until they howled this time was because he could see a way forward had come from it.

Dudley wasn't as impervious to life as they'd all thought. He had a very personal fear. If you'd asked Dudley what he was afraid of he'd likely not even know that was what it was. He'd have said the standard snakes, spiders, strangers in the house at night, the usual stuff. Severus had long ago acknowledged his own greatest fear. The concept of Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters knowing he was a spy filled him with fear and dread. Enough to wake him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

But Dudley Dursley was afraid of his own father. There was something very wrong in that household and Snape was going to find out using the Healer what it was. The twins' actions were understandable, misplaced and cruelly vindictive admittedly, but understandable. In their place he'd probably have done something similar, except to perhaps make it last longer. He punished them, but it had been a token gesture punishment at that, because they couldn't be allowed to carry on uncensured, but given what had happened to Harry, he couldn't help but applaud their actions.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Revelations

Next evening, Dumbledore, Minerva and Severus gathered in Albus' office with Healer Jones. He'd talked to Dudley at length after dinner in the privacy of an empty office and had now come to make a full report.

"Dudley has a number of issues," said Jones, accepting the drink offered to him by Albus, "He was very shaken up with yesterday's boggart incident. It might have made him easier to talk to though. He started out very standoffish, rude even, full of bluster, until I asked him how he was feeling after yesterday. He turned immediately guarded and defensive. But he did answer my questions. I'm an outsider here. He doesn't know I report to you so I think he's taking the opportunity to talk to someone. Where would you like to start? I've got two questions for you first though. Who is Tom, and do you know about the cupboard under the stairs?"

He got blank looks from the others in the room.

"The only thing I know about Tom is that he's someone Dudley writes to. I presume a muggle friend." said Dumbledore. "I know nothing about the cupboard under the stairs."

"When Harry received his Hogwarts letter it was addressed to 'The Cupboard under the Stairs'. That was Harry's room. Not the room he has now, that was Dudley's second bedroom. Harry was moved into it when Vernon thought they were being spied on given the address on the envelope."

There was silence. You could have heard a pin drop. If you'd listened hard enough you'd have heard Minerva's mouth drop open.

"I never knew..." she said faintly, and looked at Severus, who shook his head slightly.

"Albus, I told you the first day I clapped eyes on them they were so non-wizard it was untrue, but did you have a clue?" she asked. Severus looked at Dumbledore carefully when he answered. He couldn't use Legilimency on the man without his knowledge, but he so desperately wanted to know the truth.

"I give you all my wizarding oath I did not know that they mistreated Harry in any way. Yes, I knew they weren't the nicest of people, but they did have a son the right age to be like a brother was my hope, and it wasn't like we didn't pay them for Harry's care, they received an allowance from the ministry for basic needs, and I'm sure they drew state funding from the muggle government for him, after all, the muggle system knew about him, he went to school. I was disappointed to find out that he knew nothing of his parents or the wizarding world when he started here, but it didn't make me too suspicious. I just assumed they'd wanted to live a quite muggle life in their quite muggle suburb. The same could be said of the Grangers or any other muggle-born witch or wizard."

"Be that as it may, did you check up on him at all?" asked Severus, a touch acerbically.

"Did you? The only son of the girl you were so fond of?" asked Dumbledore cuttingly. Severus dropped his gaze acknowledging the rebuke. They'd all messed up. "None of us noticed anything that wrong when we were at the house in summer either." continued Dumbledore. "If we had checked up on the boy, what would we have found? They had muggle acquaintances round to the house over the years I'm sure. They played the part of a happy family for the whole world to see. Harry's school never reported anything, we have eyes and ears in the muggle welfare system watching out for witches and wizard born to muggle parents."

Healer Jones coughed. They'd all forgotten his existence. "So the past is the past. The question is, what are you going to do now? There's plenty of time before the end of the year to discuss it, so it need not be in this meeting. Perhaps I should tell you about Dudley now?"

Everyone turned their attention to the man.

"Dudley has grown up his whole life with the ingrained belief that he is better than Harry. It is inconceivable to him that Harry should have anything that Dudley wants, or do anything that Dudley doesn't want him to do. Dudley was given rewards on the principle that he was Dudley, usually in front of Harry so that Harry knew he was not being rewarded. That is how Dudley was raised. A world where anything positive happening to Harry does not exist."

"At multiple points in his life Harry did accidental magic. This was punished by Petunia and Vernon, I suspect mostly Vernon, Dudley doesn't know the details, as such, I don't know whether this was physical or mental punishment or both. From Dudley's point of view, magic is bad. It is referred to as 'the m‑word'. The word Hogwarts is not allowed to be spoken. Harry's parents are never spoken of. According to Dudley, they boys were both told they died in a car accident. If they are ever mentioned, it is accompanied by comments from the father that they were layabouts and Dudley thinks they may have been drunks. It wasn't until Dudley came here that he learnt about the Potters."

"Dudley has spent his whole life being told magic is bad and magic is freaky and Harry is a freak. By extension this means that all wizards are freaks. Then Harry had a magical accident and Dudley has magic. Dudley is now juggling two dichotomous ideas. His family have spent their lives telling him he is the best and he is special and now he's a wizard but he remembers the lessons he learnt about wizards being freaks. Dudley is terrified that his parents think he's a freak, and there's a part of him that I think believes it. And at the root of this is the thought that Harry caused this to happen. I'm sure you can see how this has lead to Dudley's increased bullying of Harry throughout the year. Dudley has got more scared and more convinced of the ideas gnawing away at him and he has become more abusive towards Harry."

"Until I can convince him that his parents are wrong and he's a perfectly normal boy, then Dudley's not going to like Harry in any way. I am surprised it went as far as the poisoning though. There was quite an escalation there and a change in behaviour. I will be looking at that more carefully. It seems that he got some suggestions from Tom, but then Dudley became tight-lipped again. I'm going to ask more about Tom next meeting."

There was silence as they all digested this information. It certainly made sense, even if they couldn't see how to proceed.

"I will be talking to Petunia and hopefully Vernon, but I think he's going to avoid me for as long as he can." said the Healer. "You will have to consider what you want to do about the situation and what you can prove if go before the Wizengamot with it, or if you want to. Harry Potter is a big name. Would he thank you for the publicity about his private life? There's no way you could keep the press out of it, not with the likes of Rita Skeeter about. If you want me to talk with Harry about any of this I will. Are you able to remove him from his aunt and uncle's care? Would you be looking to remove Dudley from their care? He clearly loves them both, in spite of his current predicament. My main concern is for both of the boys, but I wouldn't automatically remove them from the house right now. There are still a couple of months until the end of term to decide what to do. Why was Harry placed there in the first place? Surely there was a wizarding family that would take him in?"

"Are you aware of the bond of blood?" asked Dumbledore. The Healer nodded. "Harry's mother cast this charm and it prevents harm coming to him from Voldemort while he lives in a blood-relative's home. Hence I placed him with Petunia. Petunia took him grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took him, and in doing so, she sealed the charm placed upon him. Harry's mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield that could be given to him. We all know that Voldemort did not die that day, and Harry needs the protection. There are still Death Eaters who would happily kill him if they got the chance too. So I agree with you, that if at all possible the boys must remain at Privet Drive but we must work to improve their situation there."

Minerva and Severus both had reservations about the boys returning to Privet Drive, it was obvious from their body language, but they both decided they could cross that bridge when they came to it at the end of the year. In the meantime, both boys would be cared for as Hogwarts students, even if one of them had had his wand and freedom revoked.

* * *

The first few days back were quiet for Harry. Flint had organised quidditch training four times as the last match would be in a fortnight. Since it was discovered just how bad Lockhart had been, all the senior students, who made up a good portion of the quidditch teams, wanted to focus on revision and so it wasn't just the Hufflepuffs who wanted the quidditch season to be over earlier. They first practised on the Wednesday, and then they'd have one Friday, and both days at the weekend.

Harry tried to spend some time on his broom with his Gryffindor friends, but they didn't want Hermione and Neville to be left out, so didn't get much time on the pitch. They met regularly like usual in the library though as their homework quota had greatly increased.

Harry much preferred McGonagall to Dumbledore as a Transfiguration teacher, she was a lot more personable with him. This week Dumbledore had been more distant than usual. In previous lessons with Dumbledore Harry hadn't exactly been proactive about joining in, he'd never got over Dumbledore punishing him for something he hadn't done, but by Wednesday Transfiguration had become awkward, with Harry not really engaging the headmaster and the headmaster seeming to avoid Harry. It suited Harry though.

DADA was much more interesting with McGonagall teaching it than Lockhart. Although she was a Transfiguration teacher, her DADA was really interesting. She used practical demonstrations much more than Lockhart had, and explained why and how, and was patient when students didn't understand something. Harry noticed something wasn't right with her on Wednesday in class too. She kept looking at him more often than usual, and her voice sounded just that bit more solicitous. Harry wasn't about to ask though. That lead to talking and then questions and then teachers wanting answers. Snape was bad enough. He'd got used to the man and didn't mind answering certain questions, but some things he wanted to keep to himself.

But by Potions Harry had had enough. He saw the same look on Snape's face as soon as he walked through the door. Snape had actively sought him out and looked at him, something he didn't do.

"Sir, is something wrong?" asked Harry.

"No," denied Snape, "Do you think there is?"

"It's just that you, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore have been acting strangely towards me today."

" _Professor_ Dumbledore and perhaps we can talk this evening in our session." said Snape enigmatically, although seeing Harry's expression added, "don't worry, you aren't in trouble."

That evening when Snape met with Harry he decided to be honest. It was the only way the boy would talk to him.

"Harry, part of the stipulations of your cousin coming back to Hogwarts after the holiday was that he agreed to talk with a mind Healer, they're like a muggle psychiatrist, I suppose. You probably didn't learn about them when you visited St. Mungo's though."

Harry shook his head.

"One of the things that Dudley talked about is life at Privet Drive. He happened to mention your bedroom used to be the cupboard under the stairs. I can't pretend I don't know that bit of information. It tells me a lot about the rest of your life at Privet Drive."

Harry examined his shoes rather carefully. He didn't want to be having this conversation. It was embarrassing.

"Harry, I can completely understand you not wanting to tell me or anyone else this, so I'm not going to mention it again unless you do so first or if you ever want to discuss it. We care about you and we're concerned for you. You should know we're also looking into the situation regarding the summer holidays. Nothing has been decided yet. Think about it. If you have any opinion, my door, or any other member of staff's here, is always open. Do you want to discuss it at all now?"

Harry shook his head. Snape nodded in understanding.

"Very well, how's your week been so far?"

* * *

Wednesday evening at lights out was the first time Dudley got the opportunity to talk to Tom. The others had fallen asleep and Dudley had left his reading light on. No-one complained, they just went to sleep. That gave Dudley the opportunity to quietly slip his diary out of his trunk and grab his quill.

"Hi Tom." wrote Dudley.

"How did poisoning Potter go?" asked Tom immediately.

"It went crap. They gave me veritaserum and I admitted everything. I got paddled and sent home for the holidays. I don't want that to happen again, I couldn't sit down until Monday, and even then I needed a cushion. Tom, it's not working. No-one believes me about anything. If they're going to give me veritaserum at every turn I can't do anything." wrote Dudley frustrated.

He'd not minded talking with the Healer. He hadn't been accusatory, he just asked questions and listened. He paid attention to Dudley, and appeared to listen and care. He made Dudley feel special, like his parents did. Dudley was frustrated that life at Hogwarts wasn't like life in the muggle world. Everything he'd known was getting turned on his head. And then there was the boggart.

"The twins locked me in a room with a boggart." wrote Dudley.

"That's what's Riddikulus is for." wrote back Tom scathingly, the writing was a bit slanted again, a sure sign of scathing.

"The headmaster took my wand from me when I'm not in class. And I've not studied boggarts yet."

"What's your greatest fear then?" asked Tom.

Dudley paused, quill poised above the paper. He didn't like to think about it. It frightened him. He couldn't avoid talking about it with the Healer because the Healer already knew. But to admit it to someone else? Very slowly Dudley wrote.

"My father." It cost him a lot to write that, there was so much feeling in those two words, something he couldn't explain.

"Tell me about it, Dudley" wrote Tom.

And Dudley wrote. He wrote about his fear of being hated by his father for being a wizard, of being like Potter, he wrote about the fear of being punished for something Potter had done to him. He poured his soul into the words.

"Do you hate your cousin still?" asked Tom.

"Yes!" wrote Dudley, his writing spiky due to the speed he'd written at, "and his friends."

"Tell me about that too." Tom had written.

* * *

When Dudley woke next morning he had no recollection of going to sleep. The last thing he remembered was writing in the diary. It had been late, he must have been so tired, he thought. The rest of his dorm were up and about already, just Seamus and Dean were still in the room. He showered quickly and went to breakfast.

When he got to the great hall something was wrong. He could tell from the whispered conversation.

"What's up?" he asked the nearest person when he sat down, which happened to be Angelina.

"There was writing on the wall of the great hall again this morning," she said. Dudley was curious. Someone had taken a leaf out of his book and gone for a bit of graffiti.

"What did it say?" he asked.

"'He got lucky. There's always a next time.'" she replied.

It was clear from the way that most students were still talking amongst themselves and not staring at him that they hadn't put any meaning to the sentence. But Dudley wasn't stupid. The twins were looking malevolently at him, as were Ron, Hermione and Neville. At Slytherin, Flint and Pucey were looking over at him with barely contained contempt. Potter wasn't there. Then he looked at the staff table and the blood drained from his face. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Pomfrey and Sprout were all looking at him. He put his head in his hands. It was going to be a really bad morning.

As he suspected, at the end of breakfast he was summoned to the headmaster's office. He found the headmaster, McGonagall and Snape there. None of them looked in any way friendly or reasonable. Dudley had had half an hour to consider his options but he didn't get a chance to say anything before Dumbledore spoke.

"Mr. Dursley, the portraits from Gryffindor to the great hall identified you as the person writing on the wall yesterday. You were out after curfew and were seen. Even the Fat Lady identified you leaving the tower." said Dumbledore. "This makes me suspect that last time there was writing of the walls it was you too. Do you have anything to say?"

He only had one option. The same one he had come up with on his way up here.

"Can I have some veritaserum?" he asked.

That certainly shocked the room. They were expecting denials. What was the point? Dudley assumed someone had stitched him up the same way he had Potter. Perhaps the twins were going for a little more revenge, he wouldn't put it past them.

"Why would you want that?" asked Snape. "We could ask you anything. I'm sure there's plenty of things you've done in your time here that we don't know about that you wouldn't want us to find out about. And if you're doing it for a bluff, you need to learn how to play. You can't bluff with an empty hand. I will call you on your bluff."

"Because you aren't going to believe me if I just said I didn't do it. I'm not bluffing. It really wasn't me. If you don't believe me you'll punish me right?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Mr. Dursley."

"And given what was written on the wall the chances of me getting out of this office with my backside intact are slim, aren't they?"

"Zero is closer." muttered Snape.

"Then my reason is simple." said Dudley, "I didn't do it, and I don't want to get my backside handed to me. I couldn't sit down for days last time."

Dumbledore considered the boy's request. The Ministry were going to have a field day. Eventually he nodded. They'd been in the same situation before Christmas and he'd punished the wrong boy. He didn't want to repeat his mistake. He nodded. Dudley breathed a sigh of relief.

"Go to class. You will be summoned back here when we are ready for you." Dudley left the office.

"Has he got a way to beat veritaserum?" asked Minerva suspiciously.

"There's no way he has." said Snape. "It's very rare and even more expensive. However much money the Dursleys possess, they couldn't get hold of any."

"So what's the catch?" she asked.

"You sound like me." said Severus with a brief smile. "Perhaps he didn't do it. He did seem surprised when he was told at breakfast, we were all watching him."

"Then who did?" asked Dumbledore, "And I will be getting the veritaserum to make sure, don't worry about that. I will be calling his bluff if that's what it is."

"I can only think of the twins, but did you see them this morning too? If looks could kill, Dursley would be as dead as a doornail. I don't believe it was them either."

"Then we've a problem." said Dumbledore, getting up to floo to the Ministry. "I won't be long. Get back to your classes, I'll call for you when we're ready."

* * *

It was mid morning when Dumbledore summoned Dudley back to his office. Kingsley Shacklebolt was there again, as were Snape and McGonagall. Kingsley put three drops of veritaserum into a cup of water and handed it to Dudley. Dudley drank the contents and waited. He hoped like hell they weren't going to ask him about previous misdemeanors like Snape had implied, but last time Dumbledore had said he hadn't been allowed. Perhaps that was true this time as well.

"Mr. Dursley," said Dumbledore, "Did you graffiti the great hall last night?"

"No, sir." replied Dudley.

"Or this morning?" asked Snape, knowing about how to avoid answering an ambiguous question.

"No, I have not graffittied the..." Dudley couldn't finish his sentence. Damn.

"But you graffitied it the last time, yes?" asked Dumbledore. Dudley nodded. There went sitting down for the day.

"What did you do last night from curfew to 8am?" asked McGonagall.

"I waited until the others went to sleep then I wrote to Tom. I am not going to send him anything though. I just wanted to write down what I was thinking."

This answer seemed satisfactory.

"Any mail you send will be stopped and checked." said Dumbledore. "The wards have been altered to accommodate this." Dumbledore knew the boy hadn't sent any mail, so he didn't question writing to Tom any further, he'd leave that to the Healer. "Then what did you do?"

"I don't remember anything else. I was writing, then I woke up this morning."

"But you remember putting your quill away, and turning the light out?" asked Kingsley.

Dudley shook his head.

"No, sir. I remember writing, then I remember waking up."

"Did you wake up with your quill and letter still out?" asked Snape.

"No, sir, I woke up like normal, under the covers in bed."

"Did you eat or drink anything during the evening?" asked Snape.

"Not that I remember." replied Dudley, beginning to be a bit concerned. He hadn't thought about not being able to remember. He thought he was just tired and it'd come back to him. But try as he might, he couldn't remember anything from when he was in the middle of talking to Tom.

Dumbledore looked at the other adults in the room. They made a variety of gestures to signify they'd finished asking questions.

"Mr. Dursley, you've earned yourself a week's detentions with Mr. Filch for grafittiing the great hall earlier in the year. I wouldn't object too strenuously about it if I were you. We haven't asked you any other questions, and there are plenty we could ask."

"Yes, sir." said Dudley, relieved to have got away so lightly.

"You may go. Report to Mr. Filch every evening after dinner for the next week, unless you are meeting Healer Jones." Dudley left the room.

"Albus, that worries me." said Minerva after Dudley had closed the door behind himself. "Who has a hole in their memories? He could have fallen asleep, but surely he'd remember getting into bed. You could see he was concerned by the end there. And it's too much of a coincidence to think it's an accident. Someone has modified his memory in some way so that he can't remember anything last night and is expecting him to get blamed for this. And Severus is right, I don't think it's any of the obvious suspects."

"And it's not like you can feed the whole school veritaserum to find out." said Kingsley with a slight smile on his lips.

"Don't tempt me." said Snape, wearing a similar expression.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Talking and quidditch

Healer Johnson flooed to number four Privet Drive on Friday afternoon. He'd originally arranged to meet with both of the Dursleys, but unsurprisingly, when he arrived, Vernon had inexplicably been called away to an urgent business meeting.

"It's a shame I couldn't meet with both of you," said the Healer politely, keeping up the pretense. He was in two minds about whether he wanted to speak to them together or just to Petunia the first time they met. Together would mean that they were united more in their stories about the boys, and he'd get more of the dynamics of the household, but separately was easier to deal with.

Healer Jones thought that Petunia was going to be easier to work with than Vernon. She was intelligent and had a little knowledge about the wizarding world, whereas Vernon was very much a muggle of the worst kind. He wasn't that bright, he wasn't open minded and he was very angry at everything to do with magic.

"Important meeting, you know how it is." said Petunia, not quite meeting his eye.

"Of course, of course." the Healer murmured. "Now I know that I'm primarily here to talk about Dudley, but both Dudley and Harry live here and I would like to talk to you about Harry first if I may. Dudley spoke about him a little when I talked to him, and it would help me to help Dudley if I got the whole picture." The Healer had to couch his request in being all about Dudley, there was no way that Petunia would want to talk about her nephew unless it would in some way benefit Dudley, especially the first time they met.

"The boy gets in Dudley's way and holds him back. I'm sure my son explained that to you." said Petunia. She sounded as convinced of the state of the world as Dudley had, but here was something there, a note of something that didn't quite ring true, an undercurrent that said perhaps she didn't quite believe what she taught to her son.

"How does Harry hold Dudley back?" asked the Healer.

"How doesn't he? All those years when we didn't know what freaky things the boy would do? How could Dudley have any of his friends round to socialise with that going on under the roof? It was a nightmare. Imagine the worry every time we had a birthday party for Dudley or he wanted his friends over. Imagine the stigma if the boy had done something weird in front of Dudley's friends! It doesn't bear thinking about."

"Dudley's friends came round though. And you'd go out with Dudley. Dudley said you took him to the zoo for his birthday the other year."

"And see how that went with the snake! That boy ruined my son's special day."

"Did you take Harry somewhere for his birthday?" asked the Healer.

"Why should we after he spoilt Dudley's day?"

"How do you think Dudley has adjusted to being a wizard?" asked the Healer changing the topic and reserving judgment on that last statement.

"Oh, he did wonderfully well in summer," Petunia gushed, "He worked so hard. Unlike other lazier boys I could mention. I don't like the management at school though. I think they pick on Dudley. He wouldn't hurt anyone really, and look how Dumbledore punished him. It will have been an accident I'm sure." said Petunia, but again, there was a tone that suggested she knew she was lying to herself.

The Healer was in two minds. He could carry on playing this game or he could talk to her about the truth. He was convinced that she knew it from the way she spoke, that she didn't believe what she was saying. There were two ways that conversation could go though. Either she'd talk to him or she'd demand he leave. The problem was that if she demand he leave he'd have to return for an official interview that could end up evidenced somewhere. He wanted to help both boys with as little paper work as possible. There were far too many nosey people at the ministry and the hospital out to sell rumour and gossip to the likes of Rita Skeeter for a few galleons.

Rumour and gossip gave the Healer an idea. It seemed a bit ruthless and he'd much rather work his way round to the truth carefully and gently with his patients and their families, but there wasn't much time until the end of term. And to be honest, he felt that Petunia was closer to admitting the truth than she'd like to be.

"Do you have many muggle friends around here for dinners and the like?" asked the Healer.

"A few carefully chosen work colleagues of Vernon's, and a few members of the PTA at Dudley's old school for coffee every now and then. Why?" replied Petunia.

"I'm wondering if they know about the wizards living in your house." said the Healer.

"Of course they don't!" snapped Petunia. "Little Whinging isn't that kind of place. When people come round Dudley is on his best behavior and the boy stays in his c…room." said Petunia, catching herself.

"Not his cupboard?" said the Healer, looking her straight in the eye.

"No. Harry's room is upstairs." said Petunia remarkably calmly.

"And was it always?"

"This size of the boy's room is none of your affair. He has always had a roof over his head in this house. There are many children living in this country without a space of their own, or who share a bed, or who live in a house without central heating. Just go look at the council estate in Lower Whinging." said Petunia defensively.

"But comparative to your son, who has two rooms and his every whim? And what about birthdays? Christmasses, pocket money, rewards, treats. Are they equitable?"

"I have always looked after that boy. I did not request him. Albus Dumbledore dumped him on my doorstep as you well know. He has always been fed and housed. If I do not wish to reward him for embarrassing us in public and making a scene that is up to me."

"And what about chores? It seems Harry does rather a lot of those compared to Dudley."

"And if the boy were better behaved and in control of himself he wouldn't earn quite so many!" replied Petunia, two red spots appearing in her cheeks.

The Healer might think they were anger, but he didn't think so. There was a touch of embarrassment in there. She knew deep down they'd neglected Harry. He just had to make her admit it.

"Mrs. Dursley," began the Healer, making up his mind about how to proceed, "I'm not sure you believe everything you're telling me. You are an intelligent woman. I think you know that you have been far from equitable with the two children raised in your house. Let me explain how this could be seen by the wizarding world."

"Harry Potter is the surviving son of the Potters. The day they died was the day that Voldemort vanished. Many believe he died, but some of us believe he was not killed, just gone away and that one day he will return. But what is known is that in trying to kill Harry, he destroyed himself. Whichever is true, the wizarding world acknowledges that Harry somehow defeated the Dark Lord. He is special. Now, imagine what would happen if it was discovered that the saviour of the wizarding world has been neglected?"

Petunia opened her mouth to object.

"No, let me finish." said the Healer. "Let me be perfectly clear, what I can prove and what I can accuse you of if I wanted are completely separate things. Harry and your son are unlikely to speak about anything that happened in this house to official channels. Any lawyer would need to force the boys to comply if it ever went to court. They'd have to use veritaserum and penseive memories. Did the ministry explain what they are?"

Petunia nodded. The man from the ministry had come round a number of times after the boys had gone to Hogwarts to continue Petunia's wizarding education.

"Neither of these are guaranteed to be true and are often only used as circumstantial evidence at a trial. However, I ask you this: Do you want that kind of publicity? Imagine what the papers would say. Imagine how much hate mail you'd get. Imagine what would happen the next time you took your son to Diagon Alley. You'd be amazed at what the press would find out. The likes of Rita Skeeter are very determined reporters and can twist anyone's words to say what they want. You will be vilified in the press."

Petunia had gone a shade of pale. The concept of being the object of negative press was not something she could even contemplate.

"And imagine if anyone found out your actual address. Wizards, angry ones at that, turning up on your doorstep in front of all you neighbours. What if the wizarding public demanded the removal of your son and Harry from your care? It wouldn't just be Harry by the way, wizards are very family oriented, it would be your son too."

"Stop!" interrupted Petunia, "What do you want from me?"

"Just an honest conversation." said the Healer simply. "Then I want to try to talk to you and your husband about how to move forward from here. Imagine here as step zero. A new start."

Petunia nodded tightly. Anything to stop them taking her son away. She'd never considered that was an option before now. Yet how he'd just explained it, it seemed so real.

"What do you honestly think about magic? Not what do your neighbours think, not how would it be seen by anyone else, but what do you think? Think back to when you first found out of its existence. I presume when your sister started to do accidental magic. How did that feel?"

"That's personal!" objected Petunia.

"And I'm a confidential mind Healer with the power to keep your son under your roof." replied the Healer placidly.

Petunia knew when she was beaten.

"I was jealous of Lily. I wanted to do those things she did. When I was young it was me that did things first. I was the older sister. I wanted to go to Hogwarts too."

"And you couldn't because you're not a witch?"

"Yes. I wrote a letter requesting to go. I got back a polite letter from Dumbledore. It said no."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Rejected, how do you think?" snapped Petunia, not wishing to have to answer personal questions.

"Thank you for sharing that with me. Did you have anything to do with Lily's magic after that?" asked the Healer.

"No. I avoided it and her during the holidays as much as I could, especially the conversations over the summer that she had with our parents."

"Did you have contact with James Potter?" asked the Healer.

"I was invited to the wedding, but I didn't attend. She invited Vernon and I to meet with them at one point. It was a disaster. Vernon and Potter didn't get on as you can imagine. We didn't contact each other after that. I arranged their funerals, I wish..." Petunia broke off.

"What do you wish?" asked the Healer gently.

"I wish it hadn't ended that way." said Petunia finally.

"It needn't, you know." said the Healer. "You can remember her through Harry. He's got her eyes, have you seen that?"

Petunia's jaw tightened. Oh, how she knew he had her eyes. She had to look at them every day. She remained silent.

The Healer got up from the couch he'd been sitting on.

"I'm glad we could have this chat. I hope to arrange another one soon. Perhaps with your husband next time. Please think about what I've said. Perhaps next time we could talk more about Dudley, I realise we got a bit sidetracked today." said the Healer.

Petunia hadn't got up to escort her guest to the floo, she was a little lost in thought. Healer Jones picked up and handful of floo powder and threw it into the fire.

"Good day, Mrs. Dursley." and he stepped into the flames.

* * *

"Good evening, Dudley. How's your week been?"

Dudley shrugged. "Okay, I suppose."

It was Wednesday evening and Dudley was talking to Healer Jones again.

"Good, good." sai d the Healer. "This evening I'd like to talk to you about your friend Tom."

Dudley became guarded. He didn't like talking about his friend. He had no problem with his friend, Cormac had made sense when he'd said it was just like talking to a portrait, but Dudley had the feeling that talking to a wizarding world person that just existed in a diary wasn't something he was supposed to be doing right now. Chances are, they'd take the diary off him.

"He's just a friend." said Dudley, feigning indifference.

"He's a muggle, yes?" said the Healer, remembering what Dumbledore had said.

Dudley leapt on that idea. Yes, he thought! Tom can be a friend from primary school. Just take Piers and swap the name. Keep lying down to a minimum. Dudley was sure a mind Healer could spot a lie even faster than Snape could.

"Yes." said Dudley, making it clear he wasn't happy talking about him.

"Tell me a bit about him." said the Healer, ignoring the lack of communication.

"He went to my primary school." said Dudley. Hopefully the Healer wouldn't compare anything he was going to say with any facts or do any real investigating. That could become awkward.

"I went round to his house a lot. I didn't like bringing friends back to mine." That wasn't quite true. Dudley had no problem bringing Piers round for a game of Harry Hunting, but he didn't want to say anything that could so easily checked with his parents.

"And you write to him while you're here?" asked the Healer.

"Yes, I tell him about things that have happened. Not magical stuff, just like what I get up to out of lessons, or whether the teacher's OK, you know, standard stuff with the words swapped. It's weird," said Dudley realising a few things as he was speaking, "I can write Chemistry instead of Potions and it's suddenly a muggle class in a muggle boarding school. Tom's easy to talk to."

"Do you tell him about getting into trouble? Or tell him about Harry?"

"He knows I don't like Harry. We went to school together. He's the person I planned pranks with. You know, like the twins play pranks."

"Would you say that your pranks as you call them have more severe consequences than those the twins play? That last one could have killed someone."

"But I knew it wouldn't." said Dudley quickly. "I read it in a book."

"How much of your plans are you and how much are Tom?" asked the Healer.

"He's good at strategy." said Dudley, honestly. "Really good. He thinks things through."

"Except you keep getting caught." said the Healer, "Perhaps he's not as good as you think."

"Just because he didn't know about veritaserum!" defended Dudley.

"He doesn't know about magic, Dudley. There are things he can't know. You realise that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." said Dudley, agreeing to make him change the subject.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't talk to him, but do you think during term time is best? It's concerning that you're talking to a muggle. How do you communicate? You can't owl him."

"I write letters to my parents. They mail him letters." said Dudley, inwardly wincing at the need to tell such an easily discoverable lie. He really hoped the Healer wouldn't check, or tell his parents to stop forwarding the imaginary letters. The cat would really be out of the bag then. Perhaps he should hide the diary for a while, just in case. But where? They'd just find an empty book if they looked through his things, but he didn't want to risk it getting taken away just because he hadn't hidden it.

"Dudley, I get the feeling you use Tom to vent your frustrations to. I'd like you to do something for me. Could you please write down what you'd normally write to Tom but share it with me? I want to help you, to keep you out of trouble. You know that if you do anything, shall we say precipitous, you'll be in a lot more trouble than other students would be in."

Dudley shrugged. He'd write something down. Hopefully that would make the Healer less suspicious. He might even tell him how he actually felt. The man wasn't that bad.

"Dudley, it's important. You need to let someone know how you feel. The transition into the wizarding world hasn't been easy for you, and unless you let me help you it will only get harder. Please talk to me."

Dudley nodded.

"Thank you." said the Healer.

Later that evening, Dudley picked up the diary to write in it. It was before curfew but he was the only person in their dorm, everyone else was still in the common room. He picked up his quill and opened the diary, but before he put ink to paper he thought about the last time he'd spoken to Tom. He hadn't remembered what had happened that evening. Was it just a coincidence? He remembered Tom had been angry, forceful, demanding he tell him things. Then it was all a blank. Dudley flicked through the pages to see if any had writing on, but they didn't, the conversation had disappeared like usual.

He put the diary back in his trunk without writing in it. Later he thought. Next week. He'd write a letter to the Healer at the weekend. Dudley didn't feel quite the same need to vent at Tom, the Healer listened to him, and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that Dumbledore had been quite reasonable about the veritaserum and the writing on the wall.

Dudley picked up his Transfiguration text to do a bit of revision before bedtime.

* * *

That weekend was the last quidditch match of the year, Slytherin vs Hufflepuff. The previous weekend Gryffindor had played Ravenclaw and won by a very wide margin. This week's game was definitely a decider for who won the quidditch cup, Slytherin or Gryffindor. To say that last week Gryffindor had trounced Ravenclaw was an understatement, and this week Slytherin had to beat Hufflepuff by 260 points to win the cup. That meant, as Marcus had pointed out repeatedly all week at practices, Harry couldn't catch the snitch until they were 110 points in front. Marcus wasn't entertaining the thought that Harry mightn't catch the snitch.

None of the Gryffindors had come to any extra pickup games with Harry that week. Although they were friends, the Weasleys desperately wanted to win the quidditch cup. They'd cheer for Harry during the match, but they'd also hope that Slytherin wouldn't win by a wide enough margin.

The morning of the match arrived and Harry felt positively ill. Marcus had opted not to field Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle. Malfoy had played only had one game that year, and it'd been a disaster. If they'd not needed the points Marcus might have played him just to keep the peace, but he really wanted to win as it was his last year in school.

Everyone in Slytherin wished them luck on their way out to the stands, and Snape shook Marcus' hand and gave the rest of the team a nod. Snape really wanted to win too. McGonagall was so into her quidditch she wouldn't let it go if Gryffindor won. Mind you, Snape wouldn't miss the opportunity to make at least one comment to Minerva if Slytherin won.

Madame Hooch called the captains to her at the start of the game. She made it perfectly clear in words of nearly only one syllable that there would be no foul play this match, she knew how much Slytherin wanted to win and by how much they needed to win by.

The whistle blew and the match started. It started well for Slytherin, they'd scored thirty pointed in the first ten minutes. Harry had been told to keep out of the way of the bludgers and the beaters, but make sure to keep an eye on the Hufflepuff Seeker. If it looked like he was going to catch the snitch, catch it anyway. They was no way that Slytherin would finish third in the house cup, they had far too many points, but there was such a thing as pride.

After half an hour Harry hadn't seen the snitch and the match was 70-10. Harry saw the snitch. He looked over to the Hufflepuff Seeker to check if he'd spotted it. Thankfully he hadn't. Harry made sure to keep an eye on it as long as he could without giving its position away to the opposition. Harry soon lost the snitch again as the game came between him and it.

Forty five minutes in and it was 140-40. Slytherin needed ten more points before Harry could catch the snitch. Winning by only 250 points would make them tie for the cup with Gryffindor. Harry saw the snitch again. This time though, so did the Hufflepuff Seeker. Harry had to act. He flew neck and neck with the Hufflepuff chasing the snitch, just getting in his way enough that he maneuvered ahead to block the other Seeker. He couldn't catch it though, not yet. The crowd was going mental. The Gryffindors were screaming for the Hufflepuff to catch the snitch and the Slytherins were screaming for Harry to wait. If Harry had had a brief moment to look over to the staff stand he'd have seen Snape and McGonagall both staring intently at the seekers, neither speaking.

Harry was waiting for a shout from Marcus to tell him to catch it, but the instruction never came. The rest of the game had got rather busy. The Hufflepuff beaters were aiming the bludgers at Harry, and the Slytherin Chasers were trying to beat the keeper and the Hufflepuff chasers. The Slytherin beaters were doing their best to keep Harry from getting hit. Harry couldn't take his eye off the snitch or lose concentration about where the Hufflepuff Seeker was. It was the most intense game Harry had played.

Suddenly Harry got a bludger side swipe his shoulder. It knocked him into the Hufflepuff Seeker and they both momentarily lost track of the snitch. When they righted themselves Harry saw the snitch nearer the Hufflepuff. He had to lunge for it, knowing if he didn't and the Hufflepuff caught it they'd lose. Both Seekers dived for the snitch. Harry's fingers closed on it less than a finger length ahead of the Hufflepuff's. They'd won the game, but the quidditch cup was a draw.

The crowd weren't sure what to do. They had all known the scores. Either Slytherin won by a wide enough margin and won the cup, or they didn't and Gryffindor won the cup. The chance of no outright winner hadn't occurred to anyone. After the Slytherins had finished cheering their win, and the Gryffindors had realised that they hadn't actually lost, the stands were nearly silent as everyone looked over towards the staff stand. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Hooch were having a conversation behind a silencing charm. It appeared to be animated and neither Snape nor McGonagall looked too happy. Both gestured towards the players at some point in the conversation yet Dumbledore kept shaking his head and Madame Hooch looked like she was taking a backseat in the conversation. Eventually the conversation came to a stop, and silencing charm disappeared and Dumbledore spoke to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a conclusion has been reached. There is no outright winner of the quidditch cup at the moment, as you know the teams play in a league and the total points scored by a team forms that team's score in the league. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin have the same number of points. We could decide the cup by having a deciding game, however after much heated debate, at this point he glanced over at both of the Heads of House, we have agreed that there will be joint winners instead. The winners of this year's Quidditch Cup are Slytherin and Gryffindor!"

The stands erupted. There was wild cheering from the Gryffindor stands. Their losing streak was over. The Slytherins were cheering their team too. Marcus was over the moon. He'd captained the team last year, and had been disappointed they'd lost to Ravenclaw, although he had to admit, Gryffindor should have won, but this year, his team had won fair and square.

Harry was overjoyed. He flew over to the Gryffindor stands and collected hugs from his friends and Oliver who'd quickly got over having to share the cup in the joy of winning the cup. Harry was just being congratulated by Katie and Angelina when Ron told him to look at the staff stand. Neither McGonagall nor Snape looked entirely happy that they had to congratulate each other on their wins and shake hands. Harry grinned, he knew McGonagall's feelings on quidditch and he knew Snape hated losing just as much, and Harry was sure that not outright winning was the same as losing in Snape's book.

The game had been over well before lunchtime and at lunch Harry took the opportunity of the hubbub to sit with his friends at Gryffindor. Harry was fairly sure Snape or McGonagall had seen him, but neither said anything. So Harry was privy to the twins plotting. Nothing bad, just a little celebration as they put it, for that evening. Harry knew the Gryffindor common room would be full of celebrating the whole of that evening, if not the afternoon, although with so many students having to get work done, Harry got the feeling the the celebrations would be low key until the evening. Harry wondered if the Slytherin common room would be the same. He went to sit with Theo to find out.

"Kind of you to join us. We were just discussing what your favourite kind of cake is." said Theo. "Marcus has persuaded the elves to do cake and butterbeers this evening."

"Chocolate." said Harry. "With chocolate frosting." Harry hadn't had much opportunity to sample cakes and sweets before Hogwarts and so to him cakes were something super special, and chocolate frosting was perfect.

"Celebrations start at seven, don't be late. We assumed you'd be spending the afternoon with the twins. They look like they'll get thrown out of the common room for the afternoon anyway." said Theo looking over to the twins who were now so hyped up on sugar from dessert and excitement at winning that someone might have to fetch them down from the ceiling.

That afternoon the twins calmed down enough to plot a good celebration. Hermione caught the word firework and ran back to the common room, determined to stay out of the way. Harry, like the twins, assumed that a bit of fun today wasn't going to get them into any trouble so long as someone kept a lid on the twins.

That evening Harry had just started on his second piece of cake in the Slytherin common room when they heard a noise. It sounded like thunder and the noise rolled around for a while, then instead of trailing off it grew louder. Someone stuck their head out of the common room to see if they could see anything. The noise grew louder with the door open. The Slytherins followed the noise out of curiosity. They followed it up to the great hall, meeting most of Ravenclaw on their way.

In the great hall was a dragon, the sort you get at lunar new year. It was burning brightly, as if made of hundreds of fireworks, not just lit from the inside the muggle way. It was red gold, green and silver. It flew around the great hall appearing to breathe fire, but he fire didn't burn. He dragon was hot, but not eyebrow singingly so. The twins had out done themselves this time.

Fred and George materialised by Harry.

"What do you think?" asked Fred, "We said it'd work."

"That's amazing!" said Harry. "You described it, but your description doesn't come close. How does it not burn? Will it stay in here?"

"That would be telling, and we charmed it to stay in the room when we got it here." siad George answering Harry's questions.

"We had a narrow escape on the way to Hufflepuff though." said Fred, "Peeves got in the way and it went through him. I'm not sure what happened to him. He flew off screaming bloody murder."

"Misters Weasley" a silky voice interrupted their conversation. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you?" Snape asked, indicating the dragon with his wand.

"No, Professor." lied the twins, in such an obvious way that it was clear they were just playing along and it was up to Snape what to do next.

"Then you wouldn't by any chance happen to know how long it's going to be flying around, then would you?" he asked smoothly.

"I wouldn't want to guess." said George, "It's not our dragon, but you know, I think I've seen one of these somewhere before. I remember it lasting about an hour."

"Do you indeed?" said Snape, fixing them with a look then returning to where the other members of staff were standing.

There was obviously a brief conversation, and a couple of expressions that said, 'It's harmless.' then Dumbledore summoned an elf and within minutes butterbeer and cake were being circulated around the room.

All in all it'd been a wonderful day for Harry.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Into the chamber

On Tuesday Dudley met with Healer Jones once more. They met during lessons. The Healer had thought a daytime appointment with the boy might be better. He got the impression last time that the boy was tired and wanted to be elsewhere. During the day Dudley might be more awake and at the very least, slightly happy to be missing class.

Dudley had written down some of the things he'd normally have written to Tom. Only some of them though. With Tom, he'd have asked if there was any reason he couldn't remember that evening, but with the Healer he confined what he wrote to his dislike for Harry.

The Healer wanted to discuss a few points.

"You've written that you resent Harry winning the quidditch cup. Why's that? You don't play quidditch? Surely it's just something Harry's good at."

"It's the way he does it. You didn't see the match. He flew over to the Gryffindor stands like he owned the place, collecting praise from everyone. It was disgusting to watch."

"Do you wish you played?" asked the Healer.

"God, no. I've no intention of flying for fun, brooms and I don't go together."

"Then why shouldn't Harry have this?"

"Because..." said Dudley struggling to put his thoughts into words. The Healer gave him time to think. He could nearly see the cogs turning in Dudley's head.

"Because when he gave me wizarding abilities I got abilities he's got, but only the negative ones and none of the fun ones. I can't play quidditch, but I can sp..." Dudley clamped he mouth shut. Damn. He really had to stop letting his mouth run away with him.

There was silence.

"You can what, Dudley?" asked the Healer quietly. Again the silence lengthened.

Dudley debated whether to share or not. He remembered that first duelling evening. It was odd. Everyone was shocked to learn Potter was a parselmouth, but the reactions had been different. Some people looked like he'd grown horns and turned into the devil, and others had been in a weird way impressed. But the consensus in Gryffindor that evening had been that it wasn't something you'd want to happen to you.

Did the Healer even know the Potter was a parselmouth? No-one had mentioned it in ages. Dudley weighed it up and didn't think the Healer would be negative about it.

"I'm a parselmouth. So's Potter. But he can play quidditch and I can't. It's like he got the fun things that bring popularity and I've got something I'm not about to mention to anyone."

"Does anyone know you're both parselmouths?" asked the Healer, working to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Everyone knows he is. It happened in the duelling session, but no-one knows I am. Except... " said Dudley and then he trailed off thinking. Again the Healer let him.

Dudley was thinking hard. He remembered the voice of the snake at Piers' and then he remembered the voice he'd heard that day on the corridor when the Potions students were petrified. It was the same voice. Potter had heard it too. Had Dudley heard a snake? Was there a snake roaming around the castle?

"Except what?" asked the Healer, nudging Dudley into speech.

"Except he might know." said Dudley.

"Harry?" asked the Healer. Dudley nodded. "Why do you think that?"

Dudley shrugged, "Just a feeling I get." he said, not willing to expand.

"New subject." said the Healer. "I went to visit your parents last week. I spoke with your mother."

"What did you do that for?" demanded Dudley angrily.

"Your father wasn't at home, just your mother. We had a chat about magic. She's not unreasonable about it you know."

Dudley nodded. He knew that. She'd been weirded out when it first happened, but she'd supported him through everything. Except she'd been just a bit different when he'd gone home for Easter. She'd been outraged that he'd been punished by Dumbledore, but there had been just something different in her voice, something Dudley couldn't place. And the set of her face occasionally. He couldn't quite recall when she'd used that expression before, but he'd seen it. For the first time, she hadn't been entirely happy with him.

"What are you thinking?" asked the Healer as Dudley had sat in silence for a while.

"Just about home." said Dudley dismissively.

"With muggles it can sometimes take a while. I can talk your father round given time." said the Healer.

The Healer had no idea that that simple statement was going to cause such major problems. Dudley hit the roof.

"Stay away from him!" Dudley suddenly yelled, standing up. "Don't you dare talk to him!"

"Please sit down again," said the Healer quietly, "We can discuss it calmly."

"Bugger that!" said Dudley, "Stay the hell away from my family!" and with that he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

"He's a complete bastard!" wrote Dudley.

"Hello to you too." said Tom. "Who is? What's the matter?"

"The Healer." wrote Dudley angrily. "He wants to speak to my dad."

Dudley had stormed up to his dorm and picked up his diary. He certainly hadn't gone back to classes. And it gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to Tom uninterrupted. At least unless the Healer came looking for him. Then he'd tell him exactly where he could go.

"And you're afraid of that?" asked Tom.

"What do you think?!" said Dudley. He nearly threw the book across the room in exasperation and anger. If he'd been having a verbal conversation he'd have shouted.

"I can help you with that. The Chamber of Secrets, remember."

"Last time I opened it there was a bloody great snake inside. I know that's what it was. I've heard it since. It's lose around the castle. Freaks me out that."

"And it therefore won't be in there now, will it?" said Tom. "Come on."

"I don't wa..." began Dudley, then couldn't' finish his sentence. For some reason he couldn't write that he didn't want to. Did he want to then?

"It will make you stop being scared. COME ON!" wrote Tom.

Dudley was standing up before he'd even realised what he'd done. Diary in his robes, he headed to the girls' bathroom on the second floor. He didn't try to sneak around, he just walked straight there. He had no idea why he wasn't more careful. It didn't seem to matter. He went inside.

"You ignored me! You promised you'd come and talk to me!" Dudley heard a petulant voice but paid no attention.

" Opensss!" he hissed. The tap glowed white and sink began to move exposing a large pipe. This time there was no movement down the pipe. Dudley climbed inside. He didn't know why he felt it was the right thing to do, he just did it anyway. He slid down a slimy, dark slide. At the bottom was a tunnel with a damp floor. When he reached the wall with two entwined serpents he hissed "Open", and the wall parted to reveal a dimly lit chamber.

Dudley felt tired. He leaned against a wall to rest, and slid down it. He just wanted to shut his eyes. So tired. He saw a ghostly outline in front of him and he reached for his wand. Raising his arm to point his wand was such hard work. He just wanted to sleep. The outline grew clearer. It was a tall, black-haired boy.

"Hello, Dudley." said the boy, "My name's Tom." and with that Tom reached down and plucked Dudley's wand from his hand and the diary from his robes.

"Tom?" asked Dudley. "Are you real?"

"Sort of, but you're also not feeling too good, so think of me as a figment of your imagination." said Tom.

"Can you help me here? I'm so tired." said Dudley.

"It's more that you can help me." said Tom. "You really aren't very bright, do you know that?"

Dudley was shocked enough to flash both eyes open. Tom was momentarily paler, but then Dudley felt a wave of tiredness slide over him and Tom was clearer again.

"What do you mean?" asked Dudley, confused.

"The name on the diary, it doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" asked Tom.

Tom pointed his wand at the letters on the front cover of the book. The letter T.M. Riddle rearranged themselves with other letters added to the set, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Then they rearranged themselves into I Am Lord Voldemort.

Dudley shut his eyes, too tired to concentrate any longer. He wanted to ask Why or How, but he couldn't keep his eyes open.

"You can't sleep yet." said Tom, "There's one last thing I need you to see."

Dudley forced his eyes open. Tom wrote letters in the air with his wand:

 _His skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._

Then Dudley watched has Tom waved his wand and the words disappeared.

"Where...?" began Dudley.

"The great hall. For bait, you understand. Sleep now, you've done me a great service. But now I want to meet someone else."

Dudley lapsed into unconsciousness.

* * *

When the first students got to the great hall for lunch there was uproar. The writing was written as large as could fit on the wall behind the head table. 'His skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'.

Harry reached the great hall with the rest of the second year Slytherins just as the first professors were arriving. Sprout ran back out of the room, presumably to fetch Dumbledore as she returned a minute later with the headmaster.

With a wave of his wand the writing had disappeared from the walls and he magnified his voice when he spoke.

"All students will return to their common rooms immediately. Lunch will be delayed."

As soon as he finished speaking the students began to gossip amongst themselves, no-one moving anywhere very quickly.

"Who do you think he is?" asked Malfoy curiously to anyone around him.

"Go now! Anyone still in this room in thirty seconds time will wish they only had a detention with Mr. Filch!" the voice of the headmaster boomed out, magnified by a charm.

The students fled.

When Harry got to Slytherin there was chaos, everyone asking everyone else what was going on. Only perhaps a fifth of the student body had seen the writing or been in the great hall. Snape sailed into the room and glowered at everyone until there was silence.

"Students, we need to find out if everyone is accounted for. You are all members of a study group. Go sit where you normally study and tell me who's missing. Now." The students hurried to comply. Their Head of House's tone did not encourage tardiness.

There were only two students missing. One fourth and one fifth year. Snape was beginning to ask where they were when they materialised in the common room with a house elf attached to each of them.

"Professor Snape, sir, Master Dumbledore asked us to collect any students not in their common rooms and return them there." said one of the elves. Snape nodded and the elves popped away. He refocused onto the students.

"The library, sir." managed the fifth year. Snape nodded.

"Bear with me while I call a roll. It's imperative that everyone is accounted for." said Snape. As expected everyone was present. Snape seemed satisfied.

"No-one is to leave the common room, including going up to your dorms, without my express permission." Snape then sent a patronus to Dumbledore informing him all Slytherins were accounted for.

Everyone talked quietly in their groups, no-one knowing what was going on, but plenty of people speculating. Snape left to go to his office, leaving Marcus in charge of the room.

Five minutes later Snape returned, and sought out Harry from the door.

"Mr. Potter, a moment of your time." Snape went back out into the corridor and Harry had no choice but to follow.

When Harry got out of the common room door, Snape was by his office door.

"Come inside, Harry."

When Harry entered, Dumbledore was standing in Snape's office, as was a man Harry didn't know.

"Harry, have you seen your cousin at all today?" asked Dumbledore.

"No, sir." replied Harry.

"I'm telling you, Albus, I'll have seen him last when he left our meeting agitated." said the man.

Harry looked confused at the man. Snape saw his confusion and supplied an identity.

"This is Healer Jones. He's been talking to your cousin recently."

"Where's Dudley?" asked Harry. "Why did he leave a meeting? What meeting?" Harry had far too many questions, he didn't know which to ask first.

"Do you know anywhere Dudley might go if he didn't want to be here?" asked the Healer. "I floo-called your aunt, she's not seen him, although I suspect now she might be a little worried that we don't know his whereabouts."

"How should I know?" asked Harry, irritated that any of them should think he'd know where his cousin was. "What's going on? What's the writing on the wall? Has it got anything to do with Dudley?"

"Harry," said Albus, "I can't answer your questions right now. But you need to be honest with me that you don't know anything about the whereabouts of your cousin."

"Have I ever lied to you? Or is it you that just don't believe me?" said Harry acidly. "Like usual."

"Harry." said Snape in a quiet warning tone.

"Harry you can return to the common room now." said Dumbledore, ignoring the jibe. Harry left the room, but something in him made him not go far. He left the door open just enough to look shut, but not actually be closed, and he stood just by the hairline crack, listening. If any of them caught him eavesdropping he'd be dead, but he wanted to know what was going on, and why any of it had anything to do with him or Dudley.

"So?" asked Snape, "What's going on?"

"Severus, I believe the Chamber of Secrets has been opened again, and that this time a student has been taken into it. I believe the writing on the wall and that there's basilisk that we've not found. It's too much like last time to not be true. You've all done a count of your students. The only student missing is Dudley Dursley. Although he stormed out of the meeting with the Healer here, I don't think he's left the premises, I've checked the wards. I believe he's in the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry stood frozen on the outside of the door. What did it all mean? He had to listen again, they were still talking.

"What happened last time?" asked the Healer.

"A student died." said Dumbledore quietly. "Myrtle Warren."

"What? Moaning Myrtle?" asked Snape.

"That's right." said Dumbledore. "I'm surprised you know who she is."

"I've worked here long enough to have investigated most places. It keeps me ahead of my Slytherins trying to be clever." said Snape a little smugly. "Have you asked her if she knows anything?"

"Why would she?" asked Albus, "She never leaves her bathroom, and none of the girls use it if it can be helped, you know what she's like."

"At this point, I don't think beggars can be choosers." said Snape. "Let's assume the boy's in the chamber. And that the chamber contains at the very least a basilisk. I'll take whatever information I can get."

"Alright, I'll send to the ministry for a couple of aurors in case we need them, and I'll meet you and the other heads of house at the girls bathroom in say fifteen minutes. Send them patronuses, could you?" said Dumbledore to Snape. Harry didn't hear Snape respond but heard Dumbledore approach the door. He had to hide, quick. He hid behind a nearby statue, hoping that Dumbledore would be too preoccupied to notice him, and he breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when Dumbledore strode past without stopping.

Harry didn't know what to do. His thoughts flitted from one to another. Dudley was in the Chamber of Secrets and the message on the wall didn't seem like there would be a good outcome. Harry couldn't remember life before Dudley. He'd always been there, usually someone to be avoided, but always there. Dudley had tried to use the Cruciatus curse on him, and in return Harry had ripped his chest open with a Sectumsempra. Dudley had tried to poison him, not to kill him apparently, but it had certainly felt that way. But life always had Dudley in it. Privet Drive without Dudley didn't feel right. Harry didn't have any other family left. His grandparents were dead, his parents were dead, he had no brothers or sisters. The only living relatives he had were his aunt and his cousin. He'd grown up with Dudley. They weren't close, they certainly weren't like brothers, but there had always been Dudley.

Unconsciously Harry made a choice. He started to run towards the girls bathroom. Hopefully Myrtle could tell him something. It never occurred to him to leave it to the professors. He had to save Dudley.

When Harry got to the bathroom the Chamber was still open, the pipe still visible.

"Oooh, someone else. Hello, who are you?" said a reedy voice floating into view.

"Have you seen my cousin?" asked Harry, not really understanding what he was looking at with the sinks all moved and the open pipe. He was pretty sure that it didn't normally look like this though.

"Larger boy? Come to think of it, there's a resemblance in your cheek bones. Yes, he went down there." said Myrtle, pointing towards the pipe.

Harry didn't even think about not going down. He drew his wand and leapt down the pipe.

"I wouldn't do that..." said Myrtle after he'd gone down, Harry unable to hear her, "I just heard the snake go down."

* * *

When Harry got to the bottom of the slide and landed in the damp tunnel he saw a vague light up ahead and walked slowly passed the sliding wall with the snakes into the chamber. Dudley was lying on the floor near one wall and there was another boy there. Harry ran to Dudley.

"Dudley!" No response.

"He won't wake." said the boy.

Harry spun to the sound of the voice, and lowered his wand seeing a school age boy.

"Who are you?"

"A memory. Someone who's been dying to meet you. Although, I'm not about to do the dying, so perhaps that's not quite right." replied the boy.

"We've got to get out of here. There could be a basilisk. We could get turned to stone." said Harry, trying to lift Dudley and failing miserably. "Please, give me a hand, would you?"

"This must be your cousin." said the boy. Harry nodded. "I hoped you'd come. Harry Potter."

"Come on, we can talk later." said Harry grabbing Dudley's arm again and trying to tug him towards the door.

"No, we can talk now. There's plenty of time. Forever, in fact." said the boy quietly.

Harry realised there was something amiss. He'd been too caught up with Dudley to notice until now, but the boy hadn't moved. He was still propping up the pillar the way he had been when Harry entered. At his feet was a book, and Harry noticed that in his hands was Dudley's wand.

The boy lazily stood up from the wall and held the wand with just a little more menace.

"Tell me, Harry Potter, how was it that you managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? You're a mere half-blood, yet all you have is a scar whereas the Dark Lord's powers were destroyed. Talk to me, Harry Potter."

"Who the hell are you?" asked Harry, now frightened as much as angry and confused.

"I, am Tom Marvolo Riddle, boy. You'd do well to remember that." Harry looked at him blankly.

"Perhaps I should spell it out for you? I did for your lump of a cousin. He showed a bit of promise for bit, shame he turned out to be such a weak minded fool."

In the air Tom wrote words that rearranged themselves into I Am Lord Voldemort. Harry's brain stopped doing anything other than repeating the words over and over again. It wasn't enough that last year he'd come face to face with what was left of the wizard, but now he had to face the memory of the wizard who seemed to know exactly who he was. Harry didn't even begin to contemplate how that had happened. He just stared numbly at the boy.

Harry didn't dare back away from Dudley, but he couldn't seem to make himself do anything either. What snapped him out of his reverie was the unmistakable sound of a giant snake. Harry started to turn towards it before the voice of Hermione echoed in his head. "It's gaze kills people!" Harry locked his eyes onto the floor not daring to look up for fear of looking into the snake's eyes.

"Ah, you know about my pet I see, magnificent, isn't she? Shame it'll be a short acquaintance, Harry Potter."

"How are you here?" asked Harry, his curiosity overriding his natural fear. Thinking about anything but the giant snake seemed a good plan right now.

"Your cousin was kind enough to pour his soul into this diary." relied Tom, "There's a lot of rage and hate in that boy. You wouldn't believe who it's aimed at." he said with a smirk. "It makes me happy that you're not universally loved, Potter."

"His life force is keeping me alive. He's so malleable. He told me everything. It seems the wizarding world knows your story better than you do, boy. Shame it's got to end here." he raised Dudley's wand. Harry was too numb to move.

"Tom Riddle!" called a voice from the doorway.

* * *

It was a little under ten minutes after Dumbledore had left Snape's office that the senior faculty was gathered in the girls' bathroom.

"Myrtle Warren!" called Dumbledore. The ghost appeared through one of the cubicles in front of them. Snape went straight over to the sinks that had formed the entrance to the Chamber, but didn't jump in.

"Headmaster. My word, it's busy in here today! I'm all alone usually you know." she said petulantly, "You could visit occasionally."

"I've not got time for games today, Myrtle. What happened here?" he said, gesturing at the sinks. "Did a boy come in here?"

"Which one?" asked Myrtle. "There was a big one and little one. The little one came looking for his cousin. They both went down the pipe."

Snape didn't even pause before jumping down the pipe.

"Severus!" called Dumbledore, rushing over to the pipe, but to his credit, he didn't pause either before following his Potions professor into the chamber. McGonagall and Flitwick followed too, McGonagall telling Sprout to stay here before jumping down.

The professors ran into the chamber when they reached the tunnel. They came to a halt at the entrance, taking in the scene. Harry was crouched down over Dudley, who looked unconscious or worse. Another boy was standing over them, wand pointed at Harry's heart and behind the boy, as if guarding him was the biggest snake any of them had seen.

"Merlin!" murmured Flitwick. They all raised their wands. Tom turned towards the newcomers, but the snake stayed watching Harry, waiting for him to look up.

"Tom Riddle!" exclaimed Dumbledore.

"Professor!" said Tom, "Or should I say, Headmaster? You've grown old, greyer. The years haven't been kind to you." he said, fingering his wand, but not pointing it yet.

Dumbledore was taken aback. How was he here? Tom noticed his confusion.

"I succeeded, old man. I split my soul. I can live forever." said Tom with a smile. "It was kind of you to visit, but now, I think my guardian is in need of food." The basilisk turned towards them, and they all immediately looked anywhere but the basilisk. Riddle opened his mouth to call the snake over, but froze. There was music accompanied by a crimson bird.

"I don't believe you've met Fawkes." said Dumbledore, his eyes still averted from the snake.

"A phoenix!" breathed Riddle. Fawkes flew to the basilisk which rose up to snap at it. With the basilisk occupied, the professors turned their attention back to Riddle. Riddle sent a Crucio towards Dumbledore who deflected it easily. Dudley's wand certainly wasn't as powerful in the boy's hands as his own would have been.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Tom's face and he retreated towards the diary. Snape and McGonagall ran over to the boys, Flitwick moved to cover Dumbledore.

"Harry! Are you injured?" demanded Snape. Harry shook his head.

"Dudley won't wake up. He's got his life force in some way. He said Dudley had poured his soul into the book."

"Albus! The book, destroy it!" shouted Snape. No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Tom snarled and the basilisk turned on Snape. Snape didn't have time to look away, but Fawkes had solved that problem, both the basilisk's eyes had been punctured by the bird's beak.

"Incendio!" Snape pointed his wand at the basilisk, and it caught on fire. It reared up, writhing in agony, but it didn't appear to be dying very quickly. "Reducto!" Snape fired the curse at the basilisk. It bounced off harmlessly.

"Albus!" shouted Snape. Fawkes answered Snape's call and flew over him dropping the sword of Gryffindor into his hands, as the burning snake made a lunge at the Potions professor. Snape's swing with the sword was spot on. He took its head clean off.

Snape turned to the Headmaster and Flitwick in time to see Albus cast Fiendfyre at the diary.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Riddle was gone.

Snape turned back to Harry, who was cradling Dudley and the pair of them had Minerva guarding them. Dudley twitched.

"Dudley!" exclaimed Harry, eternally grateful the boy wasn't dead. McGonagall levitated the boy and Harry stood up. The four of them joined Dumbledore and Flitwick. Dumbledore was examining the pile of ashes that used to be the diary with his foot. Harry thought he muttered something under his breath. It sounded like Horse something. Perhaps he imagined it.

"Come along. " said Dumbledore, "I think we have a couple of candidates for the infirmary." He turned to leave. When they reached the bottom of the way out, Dumbledore created a spiral staircase with a flick of his wand.

Professor Sprout was relieved to see them emerge. Her face was pale but her wand was steady in her hand as she pointed it at the first sign of movement in the pipe.

"Thank you, Pomona." said Dumbledore, giving her hand a squeeze of their way past.

Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore escorted the boys up to the infirmary. Flitwick and Sprout went to the four common rooms to reassure everyone that everything was fine.

Madame Pomfrey was all business when they arrived in her domain. She quickly ran a diagnostic spell over both boys and apart from Dudley being tired and in need of a sleep and some nutrient potion both boys would be fine. Harry was dismissed straight away, but she wanted to keep Dudley for a bit. Dumbledore returned to his office after the results of the diagnostic, he needed to contact the ministry. Harry and Snape went to the Potion Master's office.

Harry wasn't looking forward to that conversation in the slightest.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The Aftermath

Harry sat down in Snape's office in the chair across from him at his desk. He was apprehensive to say the least. Putting himself in danger through not doing as he was told was not about to win him Student of the Month. Snape just looked at him. Harry had no idea what the man was thinking, he couldn't read his face at all. Was he angry? Disappointed? Harry couldn't tell.

Eventually Snape spoke.

"Harry, I need you to explain why you did what you did." said the Potions Master calmly.

Harry didn't know where to begin. Snape seemed to know this and helped him out.

"You were told to go back to the common room. Where did you go?"

"The corridor outside. I left the door open a bit. That way I could hear what you were saying." said Harry. There was no point even trying to lie or defend eavesdropping. Snape would find out eventually either way.

"And what did you hear?"

"All of it. That Dudley was in the Chamber of Secrets and the last time it was opened someone died. I couldn't let Dudley die. We don't get on, but he's the only family I've got."

"If you heard all of it, you'd also know that we, as in capable adult wizards, would be going to speak to Myrtle ten minutes later. Did it at all occur to you to wait? Or leave things to us?"

"Um. No? It just sort of happened. I remember thinking about all the horrible things Dudley's done to me, but even so that I couldn't let him die. I know that he tried to Crucio me, but I sliced his chest in return. It's weird. I know they don't stack up, but I felt I had to save him."

"Even given he tried to poison you?"

Harry shrugged.

"There's still plenty of Gryffindor in you, even though the hat chose you for Slytherin." said Snape quietly.

"It told me I could be great. The hat, I mean. I'd rather be just Harry, with a normal life and a normal family."

"Don't we all." said Snape quietly. "What happened before we arrived?"

"I found Dudley. The entrance was open else I'd have just talked to Myrtle like you said you would. He was unconscious. There was a boy, was that really Voldemort?"

Snape didn't answer for a while. He debated what he should tell the boy. He wouldn't lie to him, or skirt around the truth like Albus had a habit of doing. But how much do you tell a twelve year old?

"Yes it was. I've had a number of conversations with the headmaster since you faced Voldemort last year. More than one of those was around what happened to Voldemort the night your parents died. We know he isn't dead in the standard sense of the word dead. Just that his body was destroyed. What was in the Chamber was a part of his soul. You said that Dudley had poured his heart out into the diary. That diary contained a bit of the soul, and memory, of Voldemort. Dudley writing in it gave it life at the cost of his. If it had continued, Riddle or Voldemort as he became, would have taken all your cousin's life force and he would have become real and Dudley would have died. So yes, that was Voldemort, but only with his memories up to the time when he put his soul into the book. Not the same Voldemort that you faced at the end of last year."

"Oh." was all Harry managed to say.

"What else happened?" asked Snape.

"Only that he wanted to know how I defeated Voldemort when I was a baby and that he was going to kill me." said Harry.

Snape was silently impressed the boy had used the word 'only' at the beginning of his sentence.

"You know that you defeated Voldemort because your mother cast a protective charm?" Snape asked. Harry nodded.

"For the same reason, staying with your blood relatives until you are of age protects you. It's why you live with your aunt, uncle and cousin." Harry nodded again.

"How did Dudley get hold of the diary?" asked Harry.

"I have no idea, that's a question we will be asking of your cousin. One of many. He's had it for a while though. He's talked about a friend called Tom for a number of months. I don't think he knew Tom was Voldemort though. We mistakenly thought that Tom was a muggle friend he was writing to." Snape added the last bit with a sense of chagrin. He wished they'd followed up on Dudley writing to Tom more. But they'd all just assumed he was a boy that was part his circle of friends at his muggle school.

Snape heard Harry's stomach growl.

"It's late, Harry. We are going to talk a lot more later, when I have more information for you. For now you need to eat lunch. The house elves fed the students in the common rooms, so perhaps you want to eat here?"

Harry nodded and Snape summoned an elf to bring Harry lunch.

"When you've done, go back to the common room if you wish, or you can take a nap here on the couch. Everyone is still in their common rooms and will stay there until dinner time. Do not go anywhere else if you value the ability to sit, I'm not convinced you're not in a whole heap of trouble for not doing as you were told earlier."

Snape got up and came round to Harry's side of the table.

"There's something I've not said though, but it needs saying. Although eavesdropping and disobeying instructions are things that earn my displeasure, they are eclipsed by what you did today. You knew, surely, you couldn't have done a fraction of what a team of trained wizards can do to save your cousin, but you went anyway. I'm proud of you for choosing to save him. I'm not sure I like you methods though, running headlong into the unknown without even a shield charm isn't going to earn you any points, and most sane students would leave it to adults who know what they're doing. But after everything that's happened to you over the years of living with the Dursleys, I'm proud of the way you still place value on family."

Snape reached down to Harry and stood him up off the chair he was sitting on and enveloped him in a hug.

After everything that had happened today, and to be honest, so far this year, or lifetime, Harry needed a hug. Harry held on to Snape, cherishing every second of the hug until a house elf arrived with his lunch. Snape released Harry, and Harry sat down to eat. He'd forgotten how hungry he was.

"Please remember to chew." said Snape, leaving his office to go up to see the headmaster.

* * *

When Snape got to Dumbledore's office he found Petunia in with Albus.

"Come in, Severus." said Dumbledore. "I was just reassuring Petunia of Dudley's health."

Albus indicated a chair for Severus to sit in and he continued talking to Petunia.

"Are you aware of any diary that Dudley has been using this year?" asked Albus. "It looked quite old, it was leather and brown." Petunia shook her head.

"At Christmas and Easter I didn't see any wizarding possessions. You've probably guessed that Vernon doesn't like them." she said.

"Quite." said Albus. "I have just two things left to tell you, Petunia. The first is that Dudley encountered the memory of Voldemort. I want to reassure you that he's fine, and none the worse for the encounter." he added hurriedly, seeing the look of panic on Petunia's face.

"It was only a memory. Voldemort has not returned. Yet. Your son and nephew are safe." Petunia breathed a little bit easier.

"The second thing, is that you should know that Harry attempted to save Dudley's life. It probably wouldn't have gone well for him if we hadn't got there in time, but you should know that Harry chose to save your son."

Petunia's eyes tightened and she pursed her lips. She nodded sharply without saying anything.

Seeing Petunia wasn't about to be drawn on the subject Dumbledore ended the conversation.

"Well, I think that's about everything for the time being, I presume you want to see Dudley. Madame Pomfrey assures me of his good health. You can either come and visit him in the infirmary, or if you wish I can floo him home for the afternoon, although we'd like Madame Pomfrey to keep an eye on him, so if you wish him to be home for the afternoon, Poppy will escort him." Dumbledore didn't add that this was partly because they still didn't trust Dudley in the slightest. There was no point riling the woman deliberately.

"I'll visit him in the infirmary then." said Petunia, torn between being at Hogwarts and not wanting a wizard at Privet Drive. She knew they'd floo in and floo out, but what if a neighbour called round while they were there? What if Vernon came home early?

Dumbledore nearly summoned a house elf to escort her, but caught himself in time. Instead he sent a summons to Poppy to floo to his office to escort Petunia back to the infirmary and then see her back to Privet Drive after she'd talked with Dudley.

After Poppy had left Dumbledore's office with Petunia, Snape and Dumbledore got down to discussing details.

"We need to talk to Dudley." said Snape.

"I'm not sure we're the right people. I think we let the mind Healer do it and we watch the memories in a pensieve later. Assuming he's talking to Healer Jones after his moment this morning, that is."

"Do you think he knew that his friend Tom was Voldemort?" asked Snape.

"I hope not." said Dumbledore. "I'm wondering how much of Dudley's actions have been his own. I'd like to know when and where he got the diary and how long he's been writing in it for starters. If he had to pour some of himself into it to let Riddle live, I hope it hasn't been a long time."

"How have the ministry taken it?" asked Snape.

"About how you'd expect." replied Dumbledore, "The usual elements call for my resignation while the remainder say I'm the best man for the job. You know how it is. I don't think it's the last we'll hear from the ministry on the topic though."

"Severus, that was a good job you did with the basilisk today. You know, when you called for me when your strongest spells didn't have enough effect, and Fawkes brought you the sword, it made me grateful."

"Grateful? What for?"

"For asking for me. If you hadn't trusted me to help you, Fawkes would never have helped you, nor would the help have been the sword. You have to have loyalty to Hogwarts to get that kind of response from the castle or its occupants or the magical items belonging to it. So I thank you for your loyalty, Severus."

Severus didn't answer. He hated being acknowledged for personal things. He was fine with people acknowledging him for his Potions prowess, he'd worked and studied hard for that, but he hated when he received praise for being nice or doing the right thing. There were plenty of times he'd not been nice, and he still felt he was atoning for past sins rather than deserving of praise.

"I need to return to my house, Albus, to check on the students."

"Of course, Severus." said Albus with a knowing look. "I'll go speak to Healer Jones about talking with Dudley. In the mean time, if I could get you to think of anything you want to know from the boy and pass on your questions to Jones. I'll get Minerva to do the same. It's going to take quite a while for us to find out everything. Mr. Dursley is going to have a face a number of awkward questions and answers in the near future."

* * *

At dinner time all the students assembled in the great hall expecting an explanation and they weren't disappointed. Before the food appeared on the tables Dumbledore stood up to speak. A hush fell on the room almost immediately.

"Students, I am pleased to announce that there will be no more incidents involving petrification, and no more mysterious writing on the wall. The Chamber of Secrets has been dealt with. I am not at liberty to tell you all the details. All of the strange things that have happened this year have been linked to the chamber, and they have been dealt with. The Ministry is fully aware of everything that has happened and I will be writing to all the families who have pulled their students out of school since these incidents started. From now on any rumours will stop. Professor Sprout informs me that the Mandrakes will be ready in a couple of weeks and Professor Snape will be able to brew a Mandrake Restorative Draught. I might as well tell you that even though Professor Lockhart will be cured, he will not take up the position of DADA professor again. We will continue as we are for the remainder of the year and I will appoint a new professor to the position over summer."

There was a collective sigh of relief at that.

"The students that have been petrified will be offered the choice to study with private tutors during the summer and attempt the end of year exams and return with their own year group in September, or they may choose to join the year below them next academic year."

"Please remember that there are only two months left of the school year and that you have end of year exams to complete. There is no excuse not to study hard and for all of you to do well. Enjoy the remainder of the term."

With a wave of his wand food appeared on all of the tables and chatter started up immediately.

"Harry, what did Snape want you for?" asked Theo. Anyone in earshot listened in to the response.

"Dudley was taken into the Chamber of Secrets. The staff saved him." replied Harry.

"You can't stop there!" exclaimed Malfoy, "That's as uninformative as Dumbledore just was."

"I don't really understand much of it." said Harry, deciding he wanted to avoid talking about it with students in general. He'd tell his friends everything after dinner, but for now he wanted to fob the rest off with half a story. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened earlier in the year. A basilisk got out. That's what petrified people. We worked that out weeks ago, as I've been hearing a snake speak, but it took me a while to connect it with the petrifications. Dudley was somehow taken to the chamber. I don't know where the writing came from. The staff found the chamber and saved him. That's all I know. Please, don't talk to Dudley about it, he's probably going to have a bit of a hard time about it."

Theo and the others nodded. They recognised that Harry didn't like sharing personal information. It wasn't that Harry had given them the cold shoulder all year, or them him, it was just that none of them were close with him. Theo was the closest, but even then, they confined most of what they talked about to school related things.

Harry was glad no-one knew he'd gone into the chamber. That would have produced far too many questions. It seemed that they thought he'd spent the whole afternoon in Snape's office.

After dinner Harry went straight to the library. His friends caught up with him on the way. They found their usual quiet corner and Harry told them everything, from overhearing Snape and Dumbledore, through what happened in the Chamber to his short debrief with Snape afterwards. The only thing he missed out was telling them that he'd got a hug from Snape and that Snape had said he was proud of him. That was still too personal to share.

The twins were impressed. Hermione was a little smug about Harry remembering not to look into the basilisk's eyes. Ron was impressed with Harry's description of Fiendfyre and Snape killing the basilisk. Neville was quiet. As soon as Harry had mentioned that Tom was Voldemort, Neville had gripped his wand that he happened to be holding just a bit tighter and had listened even harder. He just hadn't said a word. Harry made a mental note to ask Neville if he was OK when they were on their own.

"So what's going to happen now?" asked George. "Is your cousin out of the infirmary? He's kept it quiet that he's been talking to a mind Healer. No surprise there, though."

"I've no idea. Snape didn't seem to know all the answers. Hopefully they'll find out what's been going on from Dudley, and with a bit of luck, Snape will tell me."

"I feel a bit bad for releasing that boggart on him." said Fred, "Only a bit, though." he said, seeing the look on Ron's face.

"It's not like we got off completely." said George, "I won't be pissing Snape off anytime soon. I'm really glad I'm not in Slytherin. Speaking of which, how narked is he at you eavesdropping his conversation with the headmaster?"

"I think he's still deciding on that score too." said Harry with a grimace.

"Good luck." said Ron.

At that point, Madame Pince came over to tell them it was curfew soon. They were amazed they'd been talking for that long.

* * *

While Harry was talking to his friends, Severus and Minerva were sitting in the staffroom discussing what they wanted the Healer to find out. They'd got up quite a list.

"I really want to know where and when he got that diary." said Minerva, after they'd jotted down a number of things to ask. "There's no way it's been in Hogwarts all this time, just lying around for any student to pick up. We carefully vet even the restricted section of the library, and Irma Pince is very thorough. Mind you, there must be a couple of things that slip through the net, did you ever find out where Harry got that curse he used on Dudley?"

Snape's cheeks flushed and he didn't look up from the parchment he was jotting things down on. Minerva noticed the silence.

"Severus?"

"Harry got that spell out of a book in my office. I was careless." admitted Severus. He knew Minerva wouldn't let it go unless he told her.

"I presume it's not lying around there anymore then. I can't imagine you had a diary with Voldemort's soul in it though, did you?"

"No, I didn't." said Severus, grateful that Minerva had moved on with only her tone to indicate her displeasure at the content of his bookcase. "Lockhart's the only new member of staff, and even though he was DADA I don't see him having it either, especially with him being a complete idiot."

"Me neither."

"We want to know how long the boy was writing in it. I assume it was him that graffitied the great hall, he just didn't believe he did, so he passed the veritaserum test."

Minerva nodded.

"I wonder how many of the other things he's done this year were him, and how many were Voldemort." she said.

"Healer Jones is going to have his work cut out for him. After he's got to the bottom of Riddle and the Chamber, he's still got to sort out the Dursleys. The father's going to be a problem, I can sense it." said Severus.

"You know, I tend to defend my lions even when they've done something wrong, but I'd really like to be a fly on the wall when someone tells Dudley that Harry tried to save his life."

"You could be a cat on the windowsill, no-one would notice you." said Severus with a smirk, ducking very quickly out of range as Minerva tried to give him a clip round the ear.

"I could turn you into a fly if you like?" she said sweetly. "You could tell us all about it when you're back to normal."

"It's OK, I'm sure we can wait for the pensieve memories from Jones." said Snape quickly.

"We've got quite a list here," said Minerva getting back to serious things, "I'll deliver it to Jones. He's going to talk to Dudley in the morning."

"I hope he chooses to talk to the Healer. Do we still have his wand? He had it today because it was during the day, but I'm not sure we want him with one tomorrow if he's going to blow up at the Healer."

"I've got it," replied Minerva, "He's only going to get it back when the Healer deems it suitable."

Severus got up to leave. It was his evening to patrol. Merlin help any student he found out of their common room this evening, he was tired and not in the mood for students playing up.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Truths

After classes next day, Minerva, Snape and Jones gathered in Dumbledore's office. Albus had got out his pensieve and the Healer was gathering memories and placing them in the receptacle.

The four of them then one at a time plunged themselves into the pensieve. They were in the office Jones was using, looking at the scene in the third person. Dudley and Jones were sitting in comfortable armchairs, but Dudley didn't look that comfortable.

"Good morning, Dudley." said the Healer. "Are you feeling yourself?"

"Hi, I'm fine." said Dudley awkwardly. It was clear Dudley didn't want to be here.

"I just wanted to reassure you I'm not in any way annoyed about you walking out yesterday, I realise it's a touchy subject. I could of handled that better." said the Healer upfront, trying to make Dudley a little more at ease.

Dudley looked relieved, but only by a bit. That clearly wasn't his only problem this morning.

"We can talk as much or as little as you like. If you want to stop at any time, just say so, the same goes if you want to change what we're talking about. I'm not here to judge anything you did or didn't do. I'm just here for you to talk to."

Dudley seemed again, just a little happier about being there, but clearly still not relaxed.

"Perhaps, I'll just start, and you can answer what you feel comfortable with." said the Healer. "What do you remember from yesterday after you left here?"

"I went up to Gryffindor and wrote to... in the ... diary." said Dudley. It was clear he was having a hard time with who his diary had contained. "I wrote something unflattering about you, and the diary suggested that I go to the chamber of secrets. It's wanted me to do that a lot since I started writing in it. Then it stopped asking me do to do that for ages. Then it asked me again."

It was noticeable that Dudley had referred to the diary as it, not he, or Tom, like he used to. He now wrote in the diary, not writing to Tom.

"I was feeling unsure, but then it was like I really wanted to, sort of like I didn't want to choose not to, rather than not having a choice. I was a bit curious, but it's like I went along with it. It wrote to me in capitals, like it was shouting encouragement and I just went. I remember vaguely walking through school, not caring if I was out of class, or if you'd be looking for me. I just went to the girls' bathroom."

"How did you know where to go?" asked the Healer.

"I went before, but not in the same way. The diary told me where it was, but said I needed to be a parselmouth to open it and I'd have to take it with me. I was curious, so I went one evening on my own." Dudley shivered. He didn't like snakes anymore. "There's a tap with a snake on. If you say 'open' in parseltongue, it does. A snake came out. I'd slipped on the wet floor and hit my head. I didn't see it. That was the evening Mrs. Norris was petrified."

"So the first time, you were in charge of what you did, but not the second time?" asked the Healer.

"Kind of, more like the second time I wasn't doing something I really didn't want to do, but I did it just because. Everything's a bit fuzzy."

"What happened in the Chamber?" asked the Healer.

"I was tired. Suddenly. Like it feels when you've got the flu and you can't lift your arms and legs. Everything became heavy. I had to sit down." said Dudley. "He was there." he added quietly. "He took my wand and the diary. He told me who he was. He showed me what he was going to write on the wall of the great hall. He said it was bait. Who for? I don't remember anything after that."

"I can probably answer that if you help me to fill in a few blanks." said the Healer. "I'm not ignoring your question, but I can give you a better answer if answer a couple more questions first."

Dudley nodded.

"How long have you been writing in the diary? Where did you get it?"

"Um." said Dudley. He looked very uncomfortable.

"I think I can make you a promise." said the Healer. "Anything you've done or said under the influence of the diary isn't your fault. More than anything, we want to make sure you are well, that's our main concern. No-one is going to punish you for things you did when you weren't you."

"Um." said Dudley again.

"Did you get the diary from somewhere in school?" asked the Healer, trying to find a way to make the boy answer.

Dudley shook his head.

"OK, seeing as you didn't take it from anyone in school, I think I can promise that you won't get into trouble for telling me where you got it from." Dudley thought about this for a moment.

"It was strange. I got it at Flourish and Blotts the day we went and met everyone. You know there was an argument between Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy?" The Healer shook his head. "They had a row about who Mr. Weasley was friends with. It got a bit, well, physical. In the confusion, Mr. Malfoy slipped the diary in with Ginny's things. I saw him do it. It seemed odd that he gave her something. I took it."

"Why?" asked the Healer curiously.

Dudley shrugged again. "Because I could. Because no-one would know." his answer was simple, and made perfect sense to him. Why shouldn't he have done?

"Did you write in it straight away?" asked the Healer, dreading the answer.

"No, not until Christmas. I'd forgotten about it. I heard Draco Malfoy badgering Ginny about a diary. He thought she'd been writing in it, but she clearly had no idea what he was on about. It made me very curious. Malfoy wouldn't talk to Ginny normally, so there must be a reason. That's when I remembered I had it and wondered what it was."

"Did you just write in it? Or did you have to work out how it worked? Tell me about the diary."

"It was blank. All the pages were blank. It just had T. M. Riddle and a date on the cover. I wondered why Mr. Malfoy would give it to her. But Draco said it was a diary. So I thought she was expected to use it as a diary. So I wrote her name in it, thinking that was important. Then the diary wrote back."

"What did it say?"

"It said Hello, Ginny, and that its name was Tom. Why did it say it's name was Tom? Was that a name V.. he used?" asked Dudley, having trouble with the truth again.

"That's a question I can't answer, I'm afraid. You'd have to ask the headmaster. What sort of things did you write in the diary?" asked Jones.

"I told him about me, but pretending to be Ginny, but with things that were happening to me. I complained about P...Potter, and Dumbledore and anything else that wasn't going well."

"Did the diary try to make you do things straight away?"

"Sort of. It was demanding, and sometimes I fancied doing some of the things it suggested. But it called me Ginny and I didn't feel like doing them. But..." Dudley was quiet for a few moments. He didn't know whether to tell the Healer the whole truth or not.

"But what?" asked the Healer gently. "You can tell me anything. I'm not going to be judgmental."

"But sometimes they sounded like good things to do. Not like when I went to the chamber this time, that just felt like I didn't want to not, all fuzzy and vague, but like, genuinely they seemed good pranks."

"Like what?"

"Like it wanted me to kill Hagrid's roosters. So I did. I liked doing it, it entertained me. It told me how to do fun hexes ad jinxes too. I couldn't try out all of them."

"Is that where you learnt the Cruciatus curse?" the Healer asked.

"Yes. But it didn't work on the roosters. It might have worked on Potter. You said you'd answer my question. Who was the bait for?" asked Dudley.

"Did you tell the diary much about your cousin, you said you told it about him."

"Only after I told it who I really was. That was after what I presume was the twins humiliating me in the great hall. I told it who I was and who my cousin was. It asked me lots of questions about him I suppose. Why? And who was the message meant to bait?"

"We think your cousin." said the Healer calmly.

"Why?" asked Dudley. "He wouldn't come into the chamber just because I was there."

"Wouldn't he?" asked the Healer. "Do you remember when you first woke up in the chamber? Did you remember seeing or hearing your cousin?"

"I thought that was my imagination. Was he there?" asked Dudley.

"Yes." said the Healer simply. "When the headmaster told everyone to return to their common rooms when you'd been taken into the chamber he disobeyed the directive and went into the chamber after you."

"Why?" asked Dudley.

"To save you if he could."

"But why?" asked Dudley.

"Because you're the only family he's got." replied the Healer.

Dudley didn't reply. He just sat there.

"Can I ask you about when you poisoned your cousin?" asked the Healer.

"No. I don't want to talk about it. Any of it." said Dudley, standing up. "I want to stop."

"We can stop, for now. I will arrange a time to talk again later." said the Healer.

"Whatever." said Dudley, and he got up and left the office.

* * *

The four adults exited the pensieve.

"That went better than I thought it would." said the Healer. "He was more forthcoming about things than I thought. He's disassociated the Tom he talked with from Voldemort, and he's upset about finding out Harry went into the chamber to save him. But I think it was a successful first conversation."

"When will you arrange another session with him?" asked Dumbledore.

"I'll see if he looks angry at dinner, if not I'll arrange a session tomorrow, otherwise I'll see what he's like at breakfast. I think with him, sleeping on it helps."

Snape could contain himself no longer.

"Can we please get on to discussing Lucius putting the diary in with Miss. Weasley's things."

Dumbledore smirked at him.

"Trust you to think of that first. Yes, Severus, let's discuss that."

"You realise if Mr. Dursley hadn't stolen it, and Miss Weasley had written in it instead, she'd have opened the Chamber and all of this would be blamed on her. A pure-blood opening the chamber of secrets. That wouldn't have gone down well with the ministry. Arthur would have lost his job. As it is, we could accuse Lucius citing Dursley's memory as evidence. It wouldn't hold up at trial, but it'd certainly tarnish his reputation."

"Would it be better to let him know we know and leave it at that? Having something over him is probably better than airing dirty laundry in public. You never know what lies he'd happily tell a court and get away with." replied Dumbledore diplomatically.

Severus looked dejected, then brightened momentarily.

"Please let me be there when you tell him?"

"No, but I'll let you view the memory afterwards." said Dumbledore, with a twitch of his lips. Severus deserved that at least. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I've got to arrange an appointment with a certain member of our board of governors."

They all took the hint and left Albus' office.

* * *

"Good evening, Lucius." said Dumbledore as Mr. Malfoy took a seat in front of Albus' desk.

"Albus, I'm surprised you're still here. The rumours round the ministry today are that there are calls for your resignation."

"Until someone calls for it to my face, I'm going to assume they're just rumours then." said Dumbledore brightly. "Let me get to the point. Tell me, Lucius, do you know anything about a diary belonging to one T. M. Riddle?"

Lucius' face went still. Very still.

"It's strange. I've heard a very interesting little rumour myself today. Would you like to know what it is? Apparently someone saw you slip that very same diary into Ginny Weasley's things. That diary, just happened to contain the soul of one T. M. Riddle, a name we know well, don't we? You'd be surprised what a soul can do when it's fed. It opened the chamber of secrets. It caused people to be petrified. It nearly cost the life of one of Hogwarts' students. You'd agree it's an interesting rumour, wouldn't you?"

Lucius recovered enough to reply. "Rumour, is just that though, isn't it Albus? You'd have to find proof, otherwise it's just scandal and gossip, and believe me when I say you'd better have very deep pockets to afford a lawyer to defend charges of detraction against my name." Lucius then summoned his elf. Dobby popped in.

"Elf, go fetch my lawyer. I believe it's time Albus found out what would happen if he were to come up against the House of Malfoy. To think that you could accuse me of openly abetting the Dark Lord. You really must have lost your marbles, Albus. Diary indeed."

Dobby hadn't moved.

"Go, elf! Before I demand you punish yourself soundly." Dobby stood there, not willing to leave. He kept looking at Dumbledore and Malfoy alternatively.

"Do you need me to return your diary to the manor, sir?" asked Dobby to Lucius.

There was silence in the room.

Lucius hadn't taken his eyes off Dumbledore, who just raised an eyebrow.

"House-elf testimony will also not stand up in court." he said, aiming a swift kick at his elf.

"And what if the press got wind of the rumour? And that you were tried in the court of public opinion rather than the Wizengamot?" asked Dumbledore, displeased with the fact that the elf was now clearly in great pain.

Lucius didn't answer.

"I tell you what, Lucius, I'll see my way to not starting any rumours if you keep yourself to yourself for a while. You know what I mean." said Dumbledore. "Oh, and dismiss that house-elf."

"Why? He's attached to the Malfoy estate?" demanded Lucius, incensed at such an inappropriate request.

"Because from what I just saw, the moment you're out of my sight, there's going to be some abuse going on. I can ignore many things, Lucius, but not obvious abuse going on right under my nose."

Malfoy gave Dumbledore a malevolent stare and then threw one of his gloves to the elf who caught it.

"I'm free?" asked the elf.

"Yes, you are free." replied Dumbledore kindly. The elf popped away. Lucius turned on his heel and stalked to the fireplace, angrily throwing floo powder in and stepped into the flames.

* * *

Next morning at breakfast, Harry looked around for Dudley. He saw him at the far end of the Gryffindor table, strangely though, he was watching Harry. When he saw Harry notice him watching, he looked back down to his food. He didn't speak to anyone. Harry saw an owl arrive for him, and saw him read a letter and scribble a reply and send the owl off again.

Harry had an odd day. He'd had time to try to process what had happened in the chamber, and had come to terms with the fact that if the staff hadn't come down when they did he'd be dead. He didn't really know what to do with that though. He hadn't slept well last night, he kept thinking about it. That and the fact that Voldemort really wasn't dead at all, and somehow wanted to kill him. When he did sleep he kept hearing something he'd heard in the chamber and he wasn't sure what it was. Dumbledore was kicking the ashes that used to be the diary and murmuring about horses. What was that? He couldn't leave the thought alone.

He lost points in Charms due to paying no attention, Flitwick had been nice about it the first two times he'd daydreamed in that one lesson, but the third time, he took five points from Slytherin and asked Harry to stay behind at the end.

"What's the matter Harry? You know you can talk to any of us about anything, we're all here for you if you want to talk." said Flitwick.

"What did the headmaster say when he kicked the ashes of the book? Horse something." asked Harry.

Flitwick grew guarded, Harry saw it in his eyes. There was quite a long pause. "Harry, I'm not at liberty to tell you, but you can ask either Professor Snape or the headmaster about it."

That made Harry even more curious. He decided that afternoon after class he'd go find his head of house and ask, given he wasn't about to ask Dumbledore for anything, and it's not like Dumbledore would likely tell him anyway. Shame he was trying to stay off Snape's radar in case he decided to have issue with Harry eavesdropping conversations and not doing as he was told like he said.

So after class, nervous, but wanting answers, Harry knocked on Snape's door.

He sat down in the chair nervously.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Snape, seeing Harry's agitation.

"Can I ask you about something about what someone said in the Chamber?" he asked.

"Of course. But why does that make you nervous?" Harry blushed.

"It doesn't. I'm just not sure whether you're still mad at me or not."

"I was never mad at you in the first place. I was angry when you stole my book, I was angry when you used a dark curse against your cousin. I'm not angry for you eavesdropping a conversation. But I will say this, next time you think of putting yourself in danger or eavesdropping on a conversation of mine, you will be a very sorry boy." Harry swallowed. In a more reasonable tone, Snape continued. "But that's not why you're here. What do you want to know?"

"When Dumbledore kicked the ashes of the book he said something that sounded like horses. What was it? I can't get it out of my head."

Snape thought for a while. Albus was not going to be happy with him if he found out.

"Horcrux." said Snape, "He said that the diary was a Horcrux. A Horcrux is a container for a piece of someone's soul. It's very dark magic. The creator splits their soul into more than one piece. When their body dies the Horcrux lives on. It's a way to become immortal. The more Horcruxes that are created from a soul, the closer a person is to true immortality. Creating multiple Horcruxes is suggested to be costly to the creator, by both diminishing their humanity and even physically disfiguring them."

"Voldemort split his soul. It may not have been the only Horcrux. As you could see from the age of Tom Riddle, he did it when he was young. A Horcrux is created through the most supreme act of evil: murder." Harry shivered. Tom Riddle must have killed someone by what? The age of eighteen?

"Dumbledore will not be pleased that I have shared this information with you, but I don't believe you need to be ignorant of the facts. He shared with me about Horcruxes after last year. You needn't tell him I've shared it with you."

"Of course not, sir. Thank you for telling me. Why doesn't he want me to know?"

"I think that the headmaster intends to tell you things when he thinks you need them. I personally prefer knowing everything I need to know without being reliant on other people. It's the Slytherin in me. Perhaps I can make you a true Slytherin yet."

"Sir," said Harry changing the subject, "When did Dudley get the diary?"

Snape explained what he could from the conversation he'd watched yesterday. I didn't tell Harry everything, some things that Dudley had said were personal, but he told him the facts.

"So when he Crucio'd me, was that Voldemort? Or when he poisoned me?" asked Harry. Harry had never wanted to believe that Dudley had tried to kill him. "But before Christmas, at Halloween weekend, that was all him?" asked Harry, quietly.

"I don't know about the things he did after Christmas. We'll find out, but yes, before Christmas, those things were him. Does it make a difference? You went into the Chamber thinking everything was him."

"Only that if it's not all him, then one day, perhaps, things might be better." said Harry. It was getting nearer the end of the school year, and at some point he was going to have to go back to Privet Drive. It just has to be better, Harry thought.

* * *

After class that day, Dudley was meeting the Healer again.

"How are you today?" asked the Healer.

Dudley shrugged.

"Can I talk to you about the first time you graffitied the great hall? The time you remember?" asked the Healer.

"If you like." answered Dudley, feigning an air of disinterest.

"Did Tom make you? Did you feel any sort of compulsion?"

"No, I wanted to. It seemed fun. Everyone was scared after Creevey had been petrified. It's the sort of thing I've always done."

"Can you compare it to the time you don't remember well?"

"Not really. I don't remember any of that evening. I was writing in the diary, then I woke up next morning."

"And that was different again to when you went to the chamber? You remember that, but fuzzily?" Dudley nodded.

"So there was a correlation between how much you objected to something the diary wanted you to do and how much you can remember?"

"I suppose." said Dudley. "I wouldn't have wanted to graffiti the great hall that night. I'd have been seen, I was seen, by every portrait going. I was sort of curious about the chamber when I went down there, even though I wasn't too sure, and graffitiing the hall first time I really wanted to do. So, yeah, I suppose there is."

"What about when you poisoned Harry?" asked the Healer.

"I checked it wouldn't kill him." said Dudley defensively.

"That wasn't my question. I asked if you felt fuzzy, or had memory lapses or anything like that."

Dudley was quiet for a bit, lost in his own thoughts. Eventually he spoke.

"It felt right somehow. Like it would work. I suppose the only thing that seemed weird to me at the time was the speed that it happened, like I really wanted to it then. It was like planned to executed in just a couple of days. It felt fast."

"Did any of it feel wrong?"

"No, once I checked that it wouldn't kill him."

"Did it occur to you that the diary might be lying and your cousin might die?"

Dudley shook his head.

"Can I ask, do you feel at all guilty about poisoning Harry?" Again, Dudley thought for a bit.

"No, I got caught. You get ten strokes with the paddle and tell me if you still feel guilty about doing something." snapped Dudley. "I got caught. I paid the penalty."

"Do you feel the need to speak to Harry about any of this?" asked the Healer, only slightly changing tack.

Dudley shrugged.

"Do you remember that I told you he went into the Chamber to save you? How does that make you feel?"

"What? You think I should owe him anything? He can make his own stupid decisions." bit back Dudley.

But there was just a note there. Something that hadn't been there yesterday, just a tinge of uncertainty. The Healer had heard a magnified version in Petunia when talking about Harry, but this was the first inkling the Healer had got that Dudley had been considering Harry going into the chamber for him.

"Perhaps that's enough for today. Please think about what we've talked about. I'd like to talk with you tomorrow if I may."

Dudley shrugged. "Sure."


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Getting back to normal

That weekend was the second weekend in May. The end of year exams started at the beginning of June. That gave them three weeks to prepare. The staff had caught up the upper school of what they were supposed to know already, and there were two weeks of learning new things before the exams. Then there would be a week of revision, and then the exams. After the exams, which took around a week and a half, there were two weeks of more practical, fun lessons until the end of term.

The students who had been withdrawn had returned. They weren't going to take part in exams, but were coming to classes to learn the remainder of the syllabus then would spend the exam time revising and be given extra lessons in the last weeks of term.

There was an air of pent up energy about the place, as if people just wanted to let off steam. Dumbledore had had a staff meeting on Friday and the staff had agreed that they'd arrange an impromptu Hogsmeade visit for all students third year and above next day, and any students left behind could take part in duelling sessions and/or quidditch or whatever they usually did seeing as it was the weekend.

Dumbledore stood up and announced this on Saturday at breakfast. There was uproar from the students as the excitement level hit the enchanted ceiling. Half the staff had arranged to chaperone students to Hogsmeade and the other half organised to stay to supervise the remaining students. Snape, Flitwick and Hooch stayed, McGonagall, Sprout and Sinistra went to the village.

The twins promised to bring Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville something nice back from Honeydukes.

So mid morning found Harry partnering Ron, and Neville partnering Hermione for duelling lessons with Snape and Flitwick. The great hall had had the tables moved to the edges and there was now a large open space to practise in.

"I know you're all here to hex your friends without sanction," said Flitwick, which got a titter of laughter from the room, "But if you don't mind we'll teach a basic shield and some basic defensive techniques first and then you can get on to hexing your friends. Madame Pomfrey was quite clear that I wouldn't be her favourite professor if too many of you ended up in her infirmary with bits missing." This got another laugh, although the students did appreciate what he was saying.

"The basic shield charm, Protego, is taught in fourth year as part of the syllabus, but as it's only a defensive charm, there's no reason you can't learn it earlier. As it's a fourth year charm, it's not going to be the easiest, and getting a good shield requires practice." lectured Flitwick.

"And that's not an excuse for 'accidentally' hexing your friends in the corridors either. Anyone found practicing shields by defending hexes will be very sorry indeed." interjected Snape, his voice containing the menace he always reserved for scaring first years.

"Precisely." said Flitwick, continuing with his explanation. "A shield is an invisible magical barrier to deflect both physical entities and spells. It wouldn't be any use if you couldn't stop an object that's levitated towards you at speed, say, so remember that the shield will stop actual items from hitting you. It's not just for spells."

"When you get good at the spell you can rebound the spell or object cast at you towards a specific place, I suggest back at its source, but if you never learn that level of control, the shield will ricochet or dissipate what's thrown at it." said Snape.

"Any questions?" asked Flitwick, "Yes, Mr. Nott?" said Flitwick seeing a hand go up.

"Is there anything it can't defend you against, when you get good, I mean?" asked Theo.

"There is. And I hope you never have to find out first hand, but it will not block the Killing Curse." the audience gasped. People didn't generally mention the unforgivables, even if they knew about them.

"Enough background, get into your pairs, two lines of pairs please, some organisation helps us to get around the room. I have no intention of getting hit by a stray spell. The incantation is Protego, and the the wand movement is this." Flitwick created a shield in demonstration. As it was invisible, no-one could see it.

"Professor Snape, if you would be so kind?" Snape cast a wide jet of tiny stars at Flitwick so that when they bounced off, everyone could see the size of the shield he'd made. The effect was very pretty, and it got a few oohs from the audience.

"You won't have time to admire the sparkliness in a duel." growled Snape. A few of the ooohers looked embarrassed.

Harry and Ron had both been at previous duelling sessions and they'd both tried to form a basic shield last time. They'd managed a very flimsy shield that broke down as soon as something was fired at it though. They were near the end of one of the lines of pairs, so by the time Snape had got to them they'd managed to form a shield first try, but it was still very flimsy.

"You wand action is correct, Mr. Weasley, but you need to put more of you into it. You've got to mean a shield just as much as you mean a hex. What are you firing at each other's shields?"

"A stinging hex, professor." said Ron, wondering if that was going to go down well.

"Of course you are, nothing painful at all," said Snape sarcastically, "I'm sure you'll learn at some point." and that was the only thing he said on the subject of their choice of hex. "When you cast a stinging hex, do you mean it?"

"Well, yes, otherwise it doesn't reach its target." said Ron.

"Then you have to apply the same principle here. Imagine you've got to cast a shield at someone, not just in front of you, imagine that in order to get in working you've got to hit them with it. Mr. Weasley, a hex, Mr. Potter, a shield if you would."

Ron fired a stinging hex at Harry again, a mild one, and Harry threw his shield at Ron.

"Ow!" yelped Ron, rubbing his elbow. His hex had rebounded and had randomly hit him.

"Sorry, I wasn't aiming at you." said Harry, "As if I could!"

"Well done, Mr. Potter. Swap roles. With feeling Mr. Weasley," said Snape as Harry cast a hex.

Harry's hex bounced off Ron's shield and ricocheted harmlessly into the ceiling.

"And from now on, you're going to use something more harmless. If anyone gets hit with a rebounding stinging hex, you two will be the first ones in detention. Got it?" asked Snape, without any malice. He was pleased they'd mastered the basics.

"Yes, sir." they chorused.

After they'd practised their shields for another ten minutes the room got a five minute break and then they swapped partners. The professors had noticed that a good half the room had passable shields that could deflect minor hexes like Harry and Ron could, and they'd banned the use of any hex that could injure. There were a lot of shooting stars and Expelliarmuses going on.

Flitwick divided the room into those that could and those that couldn't create a shield and made everyone partner someone in the other group. By the end of the hour, most students could create a shield. Neville had got very excited when his shield worked and had asked his partner, Dean at the time, to try the shooting stars hex just a little stronger. Flitwick had got hit on the back of the head by a stream of shooting stars rebounding off Neville's shield. When he turned to the pair, Neville was standing there with his hands up to his mouth looking a cross between mortified and terrified.

"Five points to Gryffindor!" said Flitwick with a smile. Neville was over the moon.

When the hour was up, they were reminded not to go practise somewhere where they thought they couldn't be seen. The portraits and the house elves had been told to keep an eye out, and hexes and duelling were strictly forbidden. There were a few looks of disgruntlement, but the students weren't daft, they weren't going to try anything.

At lunch everyone was talking about how much of a fun morning they'd had. At dinner, when the upper school had returned from Hogsmeade the atmosphere in the great hall was almost festive. The day had done a lot to lighten everyone's mood.

* * *

"Did you enjoy the duelling session yesterday?" asked the Healer of Dudley.

"Didn't go." replied Dudley.

"Why not? It was meant to be fun." said the Healer, making sure he didn't sound accusatory.

Dudley shrugged. "Didn't fancy it. Not my thing."

Jones had spoken to Dudley on the Friday and now it was Sunday. Dudley had been increasingly disinterested. He answered the Healer's questions, but wasn't very forthcoming. The Healer had to ask before getting any further explanations. Whereas at the beginning Dudley seemed willing to talk, even though he had trouble associating Tom with Voldemort, he'd been willing to volunteer information. He seemed more closed down. Not withdrawn, else that would have concerned the Healer, but more 'Whatever'.

Dudley could be drawn on any subjects except his father, Harry and Voldemort. The Healer decided to work on the Tom/Voldemort problem today.

"Dudley, how do you feel about Tom turning out to not be your friend? Would you have called him your friend?"

Dudley nodded. "Talking to Tom was nice. But he wasn't real."

"It's not that he wasn't real, it's that he was lying to you. You couldn't see his face, you didn't know anything other than what you read. It's not surprising that you believed him."

"But he was V..." Dudley ran out of words again.

"Yes, Tom became Voldemort, but he wasn't then. I was talking to Dumbledore, and he was very clear. You weren't talking to the person that killed Harry's parents, you were talking to a younger version. There was less malice in Tom." the Healer didn't add the words 'but only by a bit'. Dumbledore had explained to him in confidence how Horcruxes worked. Tom had to have killed someone or something, according the Albus, to create the diary, but he had to get Dudley to talk somehow.

"But I talked to him. I liked what he said." said Dudley.

"Because although his suggestions were perhaps cruel, they weren't evil. You chose to check that the poison wouldn't kill Harry."

"But what if he'd said it would, and then he'd made me do it, and I didn't have the control not to?" wailed Dudley.

"But you did ask. And that's key. Look, you might have a bit of a jaded view of what's a reasonable 'prank' to play on your cousin, or how far you should go with things, but you aren't an evil person, Dudley."

"But I did things. Before talking to, to... Tom." Dudley said finally. The Healer breathed. He'd said Tom. "I liked what T...Tom wanted me to do. I wanted to do them."

"Would you knowingly do something that seriously harmed, as in permanently injured, or killed anyone?" asked the Healer.

"No!" said Dudley. "It's just that I've always picked on him. That's how it's always been."

"Did your parents encourage you?" asked the Healer.

"They didn't discourage me." said Dudley. "I'm pretty sure they knew what Harry Hunting was."

"And what's that?"

"My friends and I would hunt for him and duff him up a bit." said Dudley. There was no emotion in his voice. He was just describing how things were.

"Do you regret doing it?" asked the Healer.

"It's just how things were. Life before magic seems so far away."

"And since being at Hogwarts? Do you regret using Polyjuice to get Harry into trouble?" Dudley eyes widened for a moment. "Your school records are available to me. I know about that and the consequences for it."

"It seemed like a normal thing to do. I didn't get away with it anyway." said Dudley.

"That wasn't exactly what I asked. I asked if you regretted doing it? Given after everything, he tried to save your life."

There was silence. The Healer knew Dudley had been increasingly agitated about finding out that Harry had gone into the chamber. He'd seen him at mealtimes just watching Harry. He'd been increasingly short during these interviews, especially when drawn on the subject. Something would give eventually. The Healer hoped it wouldn't take too long.

"Harry came to save me." Dudley said, picking imaginary fluff off his robes, not meeting the Healer's eye.

"Yes, he did."

"You said he'd have probably died doing it." said Dudley.

"According to Dumbledore, yes, that's how it would have gone if the staff hadn't got there in time."

"Did he know? That he'd lose I mean?"

"I don't think he considered it."

"But I broke his broom." said Dudley. The Healer was a bit confused by the non-sequitur. He waited to see if there was going to be an explanation. "I swapped his quill for a blood quill. I glued his hands. But he came to save me. Why?"

"You're his cousin. He doesn't have any other family. He's grown up with you. You are his family."

"But I've never been nice to him."

"But you're his family. Everyone else is dead. He couldn't lose you too."

"But I made him miserable."

"Harry has an incredible capacity for forgiveness, it seems. You can make a fresh start. You can be his family, his cousin."

"But it's not right."

"Dudley, you can change. You can choose to stop bullying Harry, you can get on with him. He doesn't hold grudges, whatever you've done. Whatever you've done, put it behind you. Make a fresh start."

"It doesn't work like that." said Dudley, and he got up and left the room.

* * *

After Dudley left the room the Healer thought about what to do next. He'd finally got through to Dudley. He'd clearly heard Dudley use the word Harry for the first time ever. The boy would think a bit longer, another couple of days perhaps, and then what? Hopefully he'd come down on the side of reason.

The problem was going to be at home. Dudley would think it through, he was an intelligent boy. He'd spent his childhood bullying Harry at the tacit wish of his parents. That wasn't going to stop unless his parents wanted it to stop. Dudley could reason his way to Harry had saved his life and he should be nicer to Harry, but it would come up against his parents' wishes and then what? One even more confused boy.

Damn. He'd have to get to at least Petunia very quickly. He had no idea how to deal with Vernon. He'd never even met the man. But he the boy's worst nightmare.

The Healer didn't think he'd ever laid a finger on Dudley, and from what Severus had told him, he didn't think he physically abused Harry, it was more that Dudley's parents had created a paradox in the boy's head. They loved him, but couldn't love him if he was a wizard and he was now a wizard. It was a mess.

Time to visit the Dursleys. It was the weekend, if he went there unannounced, Vernon would be there too. He really needed to plan his visit carefully.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley." said the Healer as he stepped out of the floo.

"What the ruddy hell are you doing here?" demanded Vernon, getting up from watching the television, spluttering with rage. "Get out of my house!"

Behind Healer Jones, Snape stepped through the floo.

"My house is not open to your sort! Get out!" raged Vernon. Petunia hadn't moved off the couch, nor had she said anything, she just watched the scene unfold with wide eyes.

"Mr. Dursley," said Jones, "I am Healer Jones, I've been talking with your son." He didn't add that he'd been here talking to Petunia, he had just seen the brief look of consternation that had crossed her face. "This," he said, indicating the wizard with him, "Is Professor Snape, I believe you've met."

"Mr. Dursley." murmured Snape in greeting. "Petunia." he looked at Petunia. Petunia had gone rather pale.

"And why you both here?" demanded Vernon.

"You tell me, Mr. Dursley." said the Healer. "What do you think a couple of wizards should talk to you for? Why is your son so afraid of you? Why did your nephew live in a cupboard? What skeletons do you have in your closet?"

"How dare you suggest I abuse my son!" said Vernon, reasonably quick on the uptake there.

"I didn't suggest a thing, Mr. Dursley." replied Jones. "Perhaps we could all have a civilised discussion, like civilised people?" The Healer went to sit on the couch, uninvited, and Snape followed suit. Snape could be quite menacing when he just sat there, toying with his wand, not saying anything.

"Now that I've got your undivided attention, I'd like you to answer some questions. First, how do you feel about your son being a wizard?" asked Jones.

"How should I feel? He's a wizard. What more is there to say?"

"Does it make you happy?"

"I couldn't care less, so long as he doesn't do it around me!" said Vernon, clearly lying and telling the truth in the same sentence.

"And how do you feel about Harry being a wizard?"

"He's always done weird things. You can never be sure round him what's going to happen next."

"And does this affect your relationship with them? Their being wizards?" continued the Healer, determined to get some semblance of an answer.

"How I am with the people under my roof is none of your business!" said Vernon getting angry again.

"I can see being reasonable isn't going to work, if you're not going to answer my questions." said the Healer. "Perhaps you'll respond to non-reasonable."

"Professor Snape here has spent many years working undercover in the wizarding war. He's good at it. He finds evidence for things and people go to trial. A very public trial. He's provided lots of awkward cases over the years. Ones where it's one person's word against another's. Ones where there's very little evidence. He good at gathering evidence. Piece by piece. And people are found guilty, Mr. Dursley. What do you think happens to guilty people? They go to prison, Mr. Dursley. Not you're kind caring, rehabilitating, muggle prisons though, they go to Azkaban." There was an inhale from Petunia. She remembered what the man from the ministry had said back in summer.

"Vernon..." she started urgently, but the Healer carried on.

"Azkaban's not a nice place, Mr. Dursley, not with the dementors sucking the joy of life from you, stranded in the middle of the North Sea. And that's just the dementors. What do you think the inmates would think of child abuse, Mr. Dursley?"

Vernon just sat there, not saying a word. The Healer was unsure what Vernon believed, or thought, deep down about the wizarding world, or Dudley or Harry. It would take too long to untangle. He'd try, but it would take far longer than the six weeks until the end of term. So he went for an option that was very un-Healer like. He could guarantee that if his supervisors got wind of his visit today, suspended without pay would be the least of his worries. This wasn't how it was meant to go. But Dudley had reached a turning point and he couldn't let the boy come up against his parents.

"So," said the Healer brightly, "Here's how it's going to go. At some point in the next couple of days you're going to start pretending. I know I can't change your mind overnight, but you're going to put on an act. Hopefully one day you'll see the truth, we're going to work on that, this will not be my only visit. But you're going to tell your son that you're proud of him for being a wizard. You're going to play a part. And Professor Snape here is going to keep an eye on you. You won't see him, but he will see you. While you're at it, over summer, you're going to play the part of an uncle too."

Vernon's eyes grew as hard as agates.

"I see that's harder for you. You'll get the hang of it. I'm sure we can arrange a field trip to Azakaban if you need convincing. I'm not asking you to be cuddly, Mr. Dursley, I telling you to be human."

The Healer got up from the couch, as did Snape. "We will be watching, Mr. Dursley. Start composing a letter. Make it believable. Your continuing freedom depends on it."

They stepped through the floo.

"Do you think that will work?" asked Severus.

"I don't have time for it not to. Dudley accepted a few truths this morning. He called Harry by his name. Just once, but it's a step forward. I need support for him at home. If, in the short term it's forced, so be it, hopefully Dudley will see it as effort made at something awkward. I'll carry on working with the parents over the course of the next six weeks. I've no idea where we'll get up to by the time the end of term rolls round, but hopefully we can get to a stage where neither boy is frightened to go home."

Snape nodded and left to go back to his office.

* * *

The next weekend the students were generally speaking busy starting their revision. The amount of revision related homework assignments had skyrocketed and there wasn't much time for anything else. The highlight of the weekend was when Dumbledore announced that the Mandrake roots were ready and next day Professor Snape would have the Draught ready to take to St. Mungo's.

On the Sunday the students who'd been petrified were welcomed back to school. The notable absence was Professor Lockhart. Albus had spoken to him at St. Mungo's, arranged to pay him until the end of the academic year, even though he'd not be teaching, and had cancelled his contract.

Professor Snape was marking essays in his office on Sunday afternoon when there was a knock at his door.

"Enter."

When he looked up he saw the last person he expected to see. "Mr. Dursley." said Snape, putting his quill down.

"Sir." said Dudley, looking very unsure of how to proceed.

"This is usually the part where students tell me why they're here." provided Snape neutrally. He made a point to bite back his usual sarcasm. For Dudley to be here, it meant something important.

"It's about, um, Harry." said Dudley, with an infinitesimal pause before the word Harry, as if trying out a new word "Um, and before Christmas."

"What about him?" asked Snape.

"I wasn't very, well, nice." said Dudley.

"That comment might just win the Understatement of the Century Award, Mr. Dursley."

"Healer Jones said it would be OK."

"And what do you think, Mr. Dursley?"

"I think there were some things I shouldn't have done, like..."

Snape interrupted before Dudley could finish. "You might want to be careful about what words come out of your mouth with me, Mr. Dursley. I'm not Healer Jones. I'm a little more, shall we say judgmental."

Dudley swallowed. "I know."

"I'd say there were things you did more recently that you should be more concerned about. He could have died when you poisoned him you know."

"But I checked. He wouldn't have. You brewed an antidote. And I got caught."

"And what about the Cruciatus curse? I'm sure that eclipses any number of other things you may have done to him earlier? You deserved everything you got that day."

"I know. But he still came to the chamber to save me."

"Yes he did. That's the sort of person he is."

"But did he know about all of it? I mean the Healer said it would be OK, that I could have a fresh start with him, but does Harry know everything?"

"What do you mean?" asked Snape.

"Like that it was me that destroyed his broom."

"Put it this way, we couldn't prove it was you that destroyed his broom, but we had a damn good idea it you. You do remember what I just said about me being judgmental, don't you?" asked Snape sharply. The bit of him that couldn't abide bullying was raising its head. He knew he should be gentle with the boy, he'd seen the interview with the Healer, but he was having a hard time not making good on his earlier threat.

"It was a gift. I knew it was. It was one of his few things. I destroyed it anyway."

Snape clasped one hand with the other in an effort not to reach for a ruler then and there. Why had the Healer told the boy it would be fine? The problem with some students is that it's not fine. Some students get away with anything they can, Snape had thought Dudley was one of those, but it appeared nearly dying at the hands of a remnant of a dark wizard adjusted the boy's mental scales.

"Why does it bother you that you broke his broom, but it doesn't seem to bother you that you nearly killed him?" asked Snape, curiously.

"Did you ever do anything when you were a student that got you paddled, professor?" asked Dudley, before realising that might not have been the best question to ask. But he stammered on in the face of Snape's stare. "It's just that I think I paid for that, so it doesn't bother me. I want to talk to Harry about the chamber, but I don't know how. There's too many things in the way."

Snape needed to talk to the Healer. He would very happily take a ruler to the boy's backside for some of the things he'd done that they couldn't prove, but he didn't know if it would help him or make things worse.

"Time is short right now, Mr. Dursley. There are some things I need to get done before dinner. Come back after dinner and we can talk, unless you'd rather eat dinner standing up." he added the threat to see how the boy reacted. He wasn't expecting to see relief on the boy's face.

Dudley left and Snape floo-called the Healer at St. Mungo's. Snape asked if he could come over and meet him at Dumbledore's office. The Healer agreed.

* * *

"I had the most bizarre conversation with Mr. Dursley just now." said Snape when they were gathered in Dumbledore's office. He'd asked Minerva to come along as the boy's head of house.

"I'm not sure you're the best person to be having conversations with Mr. Dursley," she said with a grin, "Is he still in one piece?"

"It's interesting that you should say that. It seems the boy has a death wish. He told me he was the one who destroyed Harry's broom."

"Did you in any way force or threaten that out of him?" asked the Healer, and hurriedly added, "I mean, erm..." he trailed off, "Sorry."

"I know what you mean, and no, I even told him he shouldn't tell me certain things because I'm not you." the corners of Snape's mouth twitched upwards, he wasn't offended by the Healer, he knew he had a reputation. "I even told him I was judgmental. But he told me anyway."

"I asked him if he felt guilty about poisoning him, or casting the Cruciatus, but he said he didn't. That he'd paid for those things. He said he wanted to talk to Harry but didn't know how."

"Perhaps he thinks he can only talk to Harry with a clean slate." said the Healer, "He's done a lot of things to the boy. He told me about them. I said Harry was forgiving, that he'd gone into the chamber anyway. Perhaps that's not what he wanted to hear."

"Perhaps it is, but he can only have that conversation after he's squared everything up with himself." said Snape, "For someone who up to recently didn't appear to have a moral compass, it's suddenly started to point due North."

"He's been duped by Voldemort. That's got to take its toll on anyone, especially if you found yourself agreeing with what he was telling you." said Minerva with a shudder.

"What did he tell either of you he's done?" asked Dumbledore.

"The broom, the blood quill, gluing his hands." replied the Healer, and then to Severus, "I presume you know about those things?" Snape nodded.

Dumbledore made a decision. "Give him a choice, either the ruler for three evenings, or once with a larger amount."

"Can I ask him about cheating in his exams?" asked Severus.

"You could ask, but it's not related to Harry, so please don't put him in the position of lying to you." said the Healer.

"I won't ask then." said Severus, a little aggrieved. Cheating on exams came just after bullying in his book. He'd had to work hard for his grades and didn't see why anyone else shouldn't. He supposed he'd have to let that one go.

* * *

After dinner there was a knock on Snape's door. It revealed Dudley Dursley.

Snape pointed to a spot in front of his desk and Dudley stood where he'd been directed. On the desk in full view was a ruler. Snape sat behind his desk.

"Where were we?" asked Snape.

"I told you I'd destroyed H...Harry's broom." said Dudley. "Sir." he added nervously. He was under no illusion about was going to happen, especially when he added, "I swapped his quill for a blood quill and I glued his handed to the pot in Herbology." It came out in a rush. Confessing had seemed easier in his own head, when he wasn't staring at a vengeful potion's master with a ruler to hand.

Snape stared at the boy for a while. He knew his stare was very off-putting. He'd practised it in the mirror years ago. Dudley's Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously.

"I'll give you a choice, Mr. Dursley, seeing as you confessed of your own free will. Each of those things would get you a session over my desk with a ruler. You can choose that or one longer session. Spanking and four with the ruler each time, or ten with the ruler once. The choice is yours." Snape knew why Dumbledore had offered the choice. Severus would have taken it if he'd been in Dursley's shoes. He hated waiting for a punishment. However harsh, he'd rather it were over quickly, and either way, the boy wouldn't sit down comfortably for a day or so.

There was a long pause while Dudley thought. Snape wasn't going to rush him, that would have been cruel.

"Sir, I choose once."

"I thought you might." said Snape standing up and picking up the ruler. "Bend over the desk, Mr. Dursley. You've ten coming."


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: End of Term

 _A/N: This is going to be the last chapter. There's some unanswered questions, but I'm going to write a sequel starting in the holidays._

A couple of days later, Dudley was preoccupied. He was frequently seen reading a piece of paper. Not parchment. Paper. It arrived by owl at breakfast. Dudley had read it, and then read it again. He hadn't sent back a reply. He just read the letter over and over. He spent a lot of time that day thinking about it. He got it out to read during class, in Potions as it happened. Snape put two and two together and didn't say anything, he just watched the boy read his letter again. He would love to know what was written on it. He made a mental note to ask the Healer tomorrow.

The Healer told him when he asked, that as expected he'd got a letter from his parents. He often got them from Petunia, but this one was the first one he'd got from Vernon. It hadn't said much, Dudley had even shown it to the Healer. It just said that Vernon hoped he was well after the incident. There was no mention of the chamber, or any details. Just a short letter hoping he was well.

"I'm actually pleased it's not any longer." said the Healer. "This letter might actually be genuine. If it'd had any wizarding references in it it would definitely be forced, but its brevity and content suggest it might actually be real. I've arranged to visit Privet Drive once a week on Saturday evenings. Vernon will be there. I've been once, this weekend just gone. Vernon was uncommunicative, but he wasn't openly hostile. I wouldn't hold my breath, but there's some hope for summer."

* * *

The exams came round quicker than any student wanted. Except Hermione, she liked exams. Once again her friends nearly strangled her whenever she wanted to talk about them in detail. She seemed most disappointed that she'd have to wait most of summer for her exam results.

Harry got through his exams. There hadn't been anything really awful in them, although he knew he'd never get a good grade for History of Magic. Ron had a near meltdown trying to get last minute revision done. He decided he'd completely screwed up History of Magic and Astronomy, and his transfiguration practical had been pretty abysmal. Neville was pleased he'd managed to complete and submit a Potion. Snape had even nodded at him when he'd handed it in, which in itself caused Neville to be ecstatic for the afternoon.

During the last two weeks of term, after the exams had finished, they had a lot more fun lessons. They learnt things that weren't on the syllabus, things that their professors found interesting.

They had most fun in Charms as Flitwick taught them things that certainly wouldn't be found on any exam. He was very specific about not wanting to see many of them around school. Anteoculatia was a spell that made people's hair grow antlers. He also taught them how to make ink invisible and then how to reveal it. He showed them a Cheering charm and had everyone in hysterics for an hour, Harry thought he'd pulled a muscle in that lesson. The prettiest charm he showed them was a snowflake creating charm. He'd made the classroom into a bubble of cold for the lesson and told them all to bring gloves and scarves. It had been fun to make winter in the middle of summer. He'd ended the lesson with a snowball charm that pelts the receiver with snowballs. Flitwick had cast the charm and gone out of the room for a couple of minutes until the chaos died down.

Soon it was the end of term. Gryffindor won the house cup and the great hall was decked out in red and gold for the farewell feast. Slytherin came a close second, there'd been only twenty points in it. But there'd been a big jump to third and fourth place. It seemed the quidditch cup had had an impact.

Harry was nervous. He had the whole summer back at Privet Drive to cope with. Dudley had been weird for the past couple of weeks. Harry had seen Dudley come towards him more than once and then at the last moment turn away and go somewhere. He'd chased after him the last time, to find out what he wanted, but he'd lost him on a moving staircase.

After his exams he'd had a final weekly meeting with Snape, where he had asked him if he'd talked to Dudley at all. Harry had shook his head, but he did wonder what was going on there. Knowing Dudley, he'd find out.

Too soon the Hogwarts Express rolled into Hogsmeade station. Everyone got on and Harry shared a compartment with his friends. They played exploding snap, and Fred and George let off the last of their fireworks into a carriage of mainly Hufflepuffs.

When the train pulled into King's Cross Harry gave Hermione and Ron a piece of parchment with his phone number on it.

"Ron, owl Hermione and ask how this works. Hermione, ring me sometime. I'll try to owl you both, but I can't promise anything. Please don't owl me unless I owl you. I'm not sure what they think of owl post."

"I'm going to France with my parents, but I'll ring you when we get back." promised Hermione. They put their trunks down after they were through the barrier and Harry gave Hermione, Ron, the twins and Neville hugs.

When Harry's friends left him, Dudley caught up with him as they headed towards where Vernon and Petunia were waiting. They stopped in front of the adults and there was an awkward silence. The boys put their trunks down for a second.

Harry caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. They were being watched. Snape and Healer Jones were standing across the station concourse. They'd not been seen by the Dursleys. There was a tabby cat sitting by their feet. All three were watching them.

"You grab the owl, I'll bring the trunks, Harry." said Dudley, as he picked up an end of each trunk and headed out to the car park. Three sets of eyes watched them leave of the station.

Perhaps summer wouldn't be as bad as Harry thought.

 _A/N: Thank you for reading my story, and thank you for the reviews and constructive feedback. A special thank you to RainCityWriter and Toraach for reviewing pretty much every chapter and making me think about my characters more. And I hope I didn't too bad a job for my first story._


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